


Your Best Line Ever

by green_feelings



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 14:34:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 55,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/green_feelings/pseuds/green_feelings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>University AU, in which Harry has a terrible job and lies about his name to drunk people, Louis is one of the drunk and has to move out of his flat, Liam shaves his hair because he fights with Zayn, Zayn protects Liam from creepy stalkers and Niall always has a solution, because he knows just about every person relevant!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is called _fiction_. 
> 
> Warnings: slight dub-con. 
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy :)

“Marry me.”

Harry frowned and looked up from his hands to the man who stood at the other side of the counter, giving him a cheeky grin.

He was shorter than Harry, and in the dim lights of the club, his skin shone in a dark tan, blues, reds and greens flickering over his arms and face. His hair was a shade of blonde, maybe brunette, Harry couldn’t quite tell. Blue eyes were fixed on Harry, dazed and half-lidded, a look of adoration beneath the glassy layer.

Another drunk, Harry thought and held back a sigh. And not exactly his type, either.

“Effective”, Harry commented and lowered his look again to get back to work. “But maybe a tad bit too simple.”

The man laughed and moved his glass on the counter. “What’s your name?”

Harry ignored it, pretending not to hear the question over the loud music and turned to put the glasses he had just cleaned to a shelf.

It wasn’t the first time that someone had approached him during one of his shifts. He knew to handle a situation like this. Still, Harry didn’t really get why anyone would approach him in the first place.

He wasn’t one of the bartenders in their black and white uniforms, looking all posh and smug. Not that he wanted that – those uniforms looked rather uncomfortable and Harry was quite happy with his loose orange t-shirt, black jeans and black apron tied around his hips. Pushing through the crowd, collecting glasses and empty beer bottles, washing glasses, keeping the counter clean; it was a simple routine and a job where he was left alone most of the time.

Most of the time.

It was a little odd, Harry thought now as he turned again and saw the stranger still standing in the same spot. Ever since he had started working in this night club, he had only been approached by men. In bright daylight, he’d never been hit on by a bloke before, only ever girls. But here, girls didn’t even pay attention to him.

“Could I have a refill?” the man asked and shoved his glass in Harry’s direction.

“Sorry, mate. Can’t do that. Ask a bartender.”

“But I’d like my refill from you.”

“Can’t always get what we want, now, can we?” Harry smiled politely and grabbed a box to disappear into the crowd and collect glasses from the tables. He felt a little bit annoyed when he saw the man still standing at the counter, as he came back; his glass had been refilled and he was slightly swaying.

Harry put down the box and emptied it, put the glasses to the sink, before he started washing them one by one.

“If you could be a Pokemon, which one would you be?”

Harry had to bite back a grin. He looked up at the man, who had just watched him quietly for the past minutes. “What?”

“If you could be any Pokemon,” the guy repeated, “which one would you be?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Just trying to get to know you.”

“By asking me what Pokemon I’d be?”

“It was either that or which super hero.”

Now, Harry laughed.

“So, I’d say you seem a lot like Pikachu.” The man leaned in closer, blue eyes glassy, but trained on Harry’s face. “I can call you that or you could just tell me your name.”

That was probably the worst pick up line Harry had ever heard. However, he had to admit it was kind of creative, too. Certainly a pick up line he wouldn’t forget too easily.

“Liam,” he heard himself answer. “My name’s Liam.”

The guy smiled and sipped from his drink. “I am Louis,” he said. “Louis Tomlinson.”

Harry smiled politely. He knew it was stupid to lie, give a false name (and Liam would probably give him a two hour long lecture, if he found out Harry had just used his name, giving it to a complete stranger). But, Harry also knew that he could get into trouble telling his real name. He’d been in trouble before, when he had told some strange, drunk guy his name. He had shown up for days, asking for Harry, waiting for his shift to end and following him home.

Harry didn’t want anything like that to happen again. And this guy actually seemed drunk enough to forget about it and once he’d wake up tomorrow morning, the memory of Harry would be gone.

“Okay, Louis,” Harry said. “It was very nice talking to you for a bit, but I am not supposed to talk to any guests. I’m supposed to work.”

“Then, how about we talk another time,” Louis suggested, “when you’re not working?” He reached out for one of the napkins and asked the bartender for a pen, before he scribbled something down.

Harry watched him, while he sorted some empty bottles into boxes, raising a brow.

“I know, it seems a bit crazy,” Louis admitted and slid the napkin over the counter. “But, here’s my number. Call me?”

“Maybe,” Harry added. Just because.

Louis apparently needed a moment, but then, he grinned and pointed a finger at Harry, blinking. “A boy after my taste.”

Harry had a weary smile for that and watched Louis leave, before he grabbed the napkin from the counter and threw it out, without even looking at it once.

 

+++

 

Louis woke up with his cheek pressed to a cold wall, a foot digging into the small of his back and a massive hangover. He groaned and rolled over, throwing an arm over his face, as the sunlight hit his eye.

“Niall? ” he asked in a hoarse voice.

His friend didn’t react. He lay facing the other end of the bed, his face buried in a pillow and turned away from Louis. All Louis could really see from his head was a mess of spiky blond hair.

Louis moved a foot and knocked it slightly against Niall’s shoulder. “Mate, wake up.”

Niall groaned and shifted closer to the edge of the small bed they shared.

“I can’t remember how I got here,” Louis said and cracked an eye open, peeked into the room. He still wore his clothes and he could smell the cigarettes and sweat and tasted alcohol on his tongue. He rather not thought about what else his mouth tasted like at the moment. “How did I get here?”

“Cab. With me,” Niall answered and his voice didn’t sound as hung-over as Louis’ did. “Let me sleep.”

Louis gave him an indignant look, but didn’t say any more. He climbed over Niall’s legs and then out of bed to get to the small bathroom. It took Louis all but three steps to get there and for once, he was thankful for that. His knees felt a little wobbly and his head was spinning, making him lose his balance.

Niall’s flat was definitely too small for two people. For two people and all of Louis’ belongings. It wasn’t all that much, really. But with Niall’s flat already stuffed with his own things, it was barely enough space to accommodate the whole life of another person.

And Louis’ life happened to be a bit more filled than Niall’s.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and could only hope that his hair was just messed up like this from sleep. He didn’t want to think of being seen in public with his hair looking as though something ugly had vomited something even uglier in it. Abandoning the view, Louis ducked his head and splashed some water to his face, before he opened a cupboard and got some painkillers for his headache. Gulping them down with a glass of water, Louis kept staring at his reflection and frowned at the dark bruise just beneath his jaw.

When had he gotten a love bite? And more importantly, who had made it?

Moving his head, tilting it to the side, he ran a finger over the dark spot and tried to remember anything from last night. His last clear memory was from the dance floor in the _Suicide Note_ , the club Niall usually took him to when they went out together. It was a loud and shady place, with cheap drinks and bartenders in obscene uniforms…

Louis’ eyes widened and his mouth fell open.

Liam, the bloke he had hit on, who worked behind the counter. Dressed in ugly orange and with curly hair and a lanky, tall body. He was actually the last thing Louis could remember.

“Niall!” he yelled from the bathroom and dashed back to the bedroom. A sharp pain stroke his head from the sudden movement, but Louis ignored it the best he could. The painkillers would work soon.

“Niall,” he repeated and bent down to joggle his friend’s shoulder. “Wake up.”

“Fuck you,” Niall just answered into his pillow.

“Was I making out with a bloke yesterday night?”

Niall opened one eye to peek at Louis. “Don’t worry, mate. You didn’t have any unprotected sex with strangers. Took you home before you could get there,” he mumbled. “No threads of potential pregnancy.”

Louis rolled his eyes and gripped his mobile phone, checked his contacts. “Seriously, Niall. I met the perfect boy last night and if I’m going by the love bite on my throat, I managed to convince him we’re a perfect match.”

Niall rolled to his back and groaned. “How about, convinced _her_?”

“What?”

“Her,” Niall repeated. “The love bite is from a girl.”

Louis gaped at him.

“You have the tolerance level, memory and looks of a fish, Louis,” Niall informed him. “You were making out with some bird, when I dragged you out of the _Sunday’s_.”

“The _Sunday’s_? We’ve been to the _Suicide Note_.” Louis scrolled through his contacts, but couldn’t find any new number. Well, it had its positive side, too: no new number from any girl, either.

“We’ve been there first.” Niall shrugged. “We moved on later and I lost you for a bit. Made out with that girl, when I found you, so I thought it’d be best to just take you home.”

“I must have been smashed. To make out with a girl.” Louis touched his temple, scrunched up his face in disgust.

“To your defence, you didn’t actually make out with her. She hung off your neck, while you were too drunk to even move.”

Louis groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“Okay,” Niall stated lightly. “Can I go back to sleep, then?”

“I met the perfect boy and didn’t even get his number, Niall.” Louis let out a muffled whine.

“Heard it all before,” Niall groaned and turned away from Louis. He gripped the duvet and curled up beneath it.

“He had curly hair. And dimples and hands twice the size of mine,” Louis went on and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Your hands are tiny, Lou.”

“And,” Louis added, ignoring Niall’s comment, “he wore orange and actually looked fit in it. I mean, orange is an ugly colour. No one looks good in orange, Niall. No person I know can pull orange, but he wore it gracefully.”

“Are you still drunk?”

Niall’s voice was muffled by his duvet, but Louis still heard it clearly enough. “Fuck off.”

Niall flipped him a finger over his shoulder. “I’d gladly do that, but I lost all privacy, when you moved in.”

“It’s just for three months,” Louis mumbled. It wasn’t like he was happy with the solution, either.

He had been kicked out of his tiny, lovely flat a few weeks ago. Considering he had been kicked out because some nasty mildew spread through the whole building, he really had no reason to think of it as ‘lovely’, but it had been his flat for almost three years. Louis had loved that place. And, of course, he couldn’t have found a new one on the spot. It had taken a few days to even find some that he could afford and when he had found the perfect one, they had told him, he could only move in three months later.

But Louis honestly wanted that damn flat. It had two rooms - _two_ \- and a small balcony and was still perfectly affordable. For a student who had just enrolled his master programme, it was fucking perfect.

However, as he had to wait for the current tenant to move out, he had needed a place to stay. And who to stay with, if not his best friend?

“Reminds me,” Niall said now and rolled back over to face Louis. “I met Andy last night and he said he knows someone who has a room to let in their flat that you could stay in for those three months.”

Louis didn’t even bother to ask who Andy was. Niall knew all kinds of people from all kinds of places. “Are you kicking me out?” Louis gasped, face mock appalled.

“As soon as possible.” With that, Niall turned away again and flipped the duvet over his head.

Louis let Niall go back to sleep and decided to just take a shower instead. And just because he was a nice person, he would go and grab them some breakfast afterwards.

 

+++

 

Harry slightly lifted his head, as Liam slid into the seat next to him and put a steaming cup of coffee in front of his face.

God bless Liam.

Harry greeted his friend with a short wave of his hand and a happy grunt, before he let his head drop back to the table, a hand loosely wrapped around the hot paper cup.

“Long night?” Liam asked.

Harry shrugged. “Finished at seven.”

“That’s suicide, Harry,” Liam scolded him with a look that was clearly concerned. “You should quit that job.”

“It’s well paid.”

Liam sipped from his own cup and removed the beanie from his head. Harry still wasn’t used to Liam’s short hair. Only a few weeks ago, it had still been longer than his own, curly and messy. Quite similar to Harry’s own hair style.

A pretty nasty fight with Zayn and all of it had been gone. Absolutely in vain, however, because Liam and Zayn had made up a few days later and now, Zayn would not stop whining about how much he missed running his hands through Liam’s hair.

Sometimes, he randomly ran a hand through Harry’s and it was truly creepy.

“There are well-paid jobs during day time, too.”

Harry knew that much. He just didn’t want to go through the hassle of looking for another job; applications and interviews would take up too much of his time. He had only started going to University and he really didn’t have any time. He never thought studying would be so time-consuming.

“You know,” Liam continued, “in your first year, you should concentrate on your studies. You won’t be able to keep this up once exams start.”

“Yeah. I know. I’ll look for something else.” Harry rolled his eyes, but he knew Liam only worried for him. Liam always worried for everything. But, Harry had to admit that Liam probably really knew best. Liam’s been doing the same job for more than a year. He had only started working in the night club after his first year of University and had just recently changed jobs. He did know what he was talking about.

Hence, Harry knew he couldn’t win this discussion. And there was only one thing to distract Liam with. “How’s Zayn?”

Liam’s features softened and his smile was warm. “Still in bed. Have you ever seen him getting up before ten?”

Harry grinned and shook his head. “Is he meeting up with us for lunch?”

“He’ll come,” Liam said, before he turned his body to Harry. “You know, about that job—”

“I thought we were through with that?” Harry threw in.

Liam rolled his eyes. “Andy called me yesterday. Do you still want to rent out the spare room in your flat?”

Harry lifted his head from the table and nodded. “Does he know someone?”

“Well, he met Niall a few days ago and Niall said he has a friend who’s looking for a place to stay for about three months.”

“Niall?”

“I met him a few times. Don’t know him too well,” Liam admitted, “but he seems to be a decent bloke. He’s a good laugh.”

Harry shrugged. “For three months?”

“Yeah, and I thought that would give you an excuse to take less shifts and look for another job? You’ll have an extra income from the rent for those three months.”

Pouting his lips, Harry ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. “Sounds quite good, yeah.”

“Okay,” Liam beamed. “I’ll call Andy up and ask him for Niall’s number.”

Harry gave a short nod. “Sure. Fine.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later.” Liam got up and ruffled Harry’s hair slightly, before he took off to get to his own class.

Harry just dropped his head back to the table and hoped to be over with this quickly. He just wanted his bed. His warm, soft bed, where he would stay until late afternoon. He didn’t have to work tonight, so he could just spend a lazy night in, probably do his homework and finish some reading, before he’d watch a movie and fall asleep, before it finished.

Harry wondered, when exactly that image had turned out to be the perfect description of a Friday night in his young life.

 

+++

 

“I can’t believe you went back there on your own,” Niall said and raised a brow, and Louis almost couldn’t make out the words, as Niall’s mouth was filled with chips.

“I had to see him again.” Louis poked his fork through his own plate of chips. “I probably didn’t leave the best impression, when I talked to him last time.”

“What did you say?”

Louis shrugged. “Don’t really remember. I reckon it wasn’t all that charming.”

Niall laughed and gulped down some coke. “He wasn’t working yesterday night?”

“They said he quit. Quit, Niall,” Louis repeated and sighed dramatically. “How will I find him now?”

“All this, just because he looks somewhat decent in an orange shirt?”

“Somewhat decent doesn’t even get close,”Louis told him. “And it’s because his smile was so sweet and his curls so pretty. He was perfect!” Louis dropped his fork and gave up on his food. He shoved his plate over to Niall who gladly picked up the chips.

“You know, maybe he’s one of those blokes that look nice and have a shitty character.”

“People with dimples just don’t have shitty characters.”

Niall only shook his head, rolled his eyes and Louis knew that he actually didn’t really care. For Louis, however, this really was a drama. The memory of Liam was stuck in his head and he just wanted the chance to get to know him; find out if he was as angelic, as he appeared.

He knew he could only let go of it once he had found out for himself.

Therefore, Louis had gone back to the _Suicide Note_ yesterday night. For a Friday night, it had been rather empty and Louis had felt tempted to just drown a bottle of something very strong to endure the lame music. But this time, when he faced Liam, he wanted to be sober and leave a good impression. But Liam hadn’t shown up.

And when Louis had asked for him, some bartender had told him Liam had quit and didn’t work at the night club anymore.

That was just Louis’ luck.

He snapped out of his thoughts, when a bloke with blond hair approached their table in the corner of the cafeteria. Niall wasn’t finished eating yet and looked rather surprised, when the tall guy sat down next to him.

“Andy,” he then exclaimed and pulled him in for a quick hug.

“What are you doing here on a Saturday?” Andy asked.

“Cheapest lunch in town,” Niall answered and then pointed at Louis. “That’s my mate Louis.”

“Hey, nice to meet you.” Andy extended his hand.

Louis gripped it with a smile. “Likewise.”

“And why are you here yourself, on a Saturday?” Niall picked up another handful of chips.

“Working in the kitchen,” Andy said and grinned. “My shift just ended.”

“Any plans for tonight?”

Andy shrugged. “I’m invited to a party, check out the girls and see if any of them is worth my time.”

Louis raised a brow to that, but bit back any comment. He didn’t know the bloke, after all.

Niall just nodded, as if he hadn’t expected any different answer.

A ringing melody let them all jump slightly and Andy apologised, as he pulled out his mobile and answered. “Hey, mate. How are you?”

Louis watched him silently and decided he didn’t like this one too much. Niall knew all kinds of people, good and bad, and this guy probably played for Team Bad.

“You’re lucky,” Andy said into his phone. “I am actually with him right now. Yeah, I can ask.”

He turned to Niall. “Liam says Harry’s still got a room to let. He’d like to meet your friend.”

Louis’ mouth dropped open at the mention of the name _Liam_.

Beaming, Niall shot a glance at Louis. “Brilliant. It’s Lou right here.”

Andy looked at him and then hummed to whatever the person on the phone said. “Do you have time tomorrow evening? Around six?”

Louis just nodded.

Andy got out a pen and wrote something onto a napkin. “Cheers, mate. Talk to you soon.” He hung up and handed Louis the napkin. “That’s the address. You can be there tomorrow evening to have a look.”

“Um, yeah,” Louis choked out. “Thanks.”

“Okay, gotta run now, lads!” Andy got up and knocked the table two times.

“Bye,” Niall said with a wave and Louis just watched him leave without a word, before he turned back to Niall.

“Who is Liam?”

Niall frowned at him. “What?”

“Liam? Who is he, how do you know him?”

“I don’t know. He’s one of Andy’s good friends. I just met him a few times.”

Louis leaned in, the napkin scrunched between his fingers. “Tall, lanky, curly hair?”

Niall shrugged. “Yeah, why?”

“Niall, that’s him!” Louis beamed. “That’s the boy in orange from the club.”

“Well,” Niall crossed his arms and gave Louis a long look, sympathy on his face. “Sorry to disappoint you, but he’s got a boyfriend.”

Louis’ face fell. “What?”

“He’s got a boyfriend. Zayn,” Niall added. “He’s a nice bloke, we worked together once, when I still did some sound engineering for that theatre group. He did some fancy stage drawings.”

Louis stared at Niall in disbelief.

“Oh, shit, Lou,” Niall said and made a face of pity. “I am sorry to break the bad news to you.”

“I know him,” Louis said and dropped his head to his arms on the table. “He studies English Lit, too. Zayn Malik, right?”

“Yeah, right”, Niall answered.

“He’s in some of my classes.” Louis lifted his head and rolled his eyes. “Fucking handsome model.”

Niall snickered, the mean bastard. Louis wanted to strangle him.

Any other guy and Louis would have worked out a plan to unchain Liam from his boyfriend. After all, Louis didn’t have any reasons to be self-conscious. He knew, if he made some effort, he was rather good-looking. But no one on earth could compete with Zayn Malik. Louis had never spoken to him, but every person in class secretly admired Zayn Malik. He was a fucking model, Louis was sure about that.

He had thought his weekend had already been ruined, when he had found out yesterday that Liam had quit his job. How wrong he had been, though.

It could always get worse.

 

+++

 

And even worse, Louis thought, when next day, he rang the bell of what was potentially his new home and Zayn Malik opened the door.

“Um…,” Louis said and threw another confused look at the napkin. “Isn’t this 4A?”

Zayn stood in the door frame and tilted his head. “Aren’t you in my Virginia Woolf class? Mr Tomlinson, right?”

Louis wanted to disappear. Why had Zayn Malik opened the door? “Right. Mr Tomlinson,” he said and frowned. “Do I have to call you Mr Malik, then?”

Zayn cracked a smile. “I never caught your name, is all. The teachers never use it.” he reached out a hand. “I’m Zayn.”

“Louis. The whole Mr Tomlinson and Mr Malik thing is actually quite cool, though” Louis pointed out and shook his hand. “Feels like we’re on some Bond mission.”

Laughing Zayn pointed at the napkin in Louis’ hand. “To answer your question, this is 4A. Are you the one moving in with Harry?”

Louis nodded. “Well, I’m not moving in yet. I didn’t know he’s got another flat mate.” 

Zayn shook his head. “He doesn’t. I suppose Andy gave you the wrong number. Harry’s in 5B. I can show you.”

Louis hated that he liked Zayn. He should hate Zayn; Zayn got everything Louis wanted. From his looks to his perfect boyfriend. And damn it, he didn’t just look cool, he _was_ cool. He was apparently a really nice bloke. Louis hated his life.

Zayn pointed to the stairs and closed the door behind himself. Louis followed. “So, if I move in, we’ll be neighbours.”

“Kind of,” Zayn answered. “Maybe we can go for a few drinks sometime. You’re friends with Niall, right?”

“I’m crashing at his place,” Louis answered. “And pay my rent in naturals.”

Zayn stopped and turned to Louis to give him a wide-eyed look.

“That was a joke”, Louis said dryly. “I just make sure his fridge is never empty. I buy groceries.”

“Okay,” Zayn said and started laughing. “Man, you almost got me there.”

“Almost?” Louis raised a brow, a mocking grin on his lips, as Zayn stopped in front of a door.

“There we are”, he said and knocked lightly.

The door swung open and Louis turned his eyes from Zayn to…

“Liam?”

There he was, pretty face and tall body. He wore tight, black pants and a simple white t-shirt that exposed a glimpse of his collarbones. Louis saw black ink on his skin that wasn’t covered by the fabric. He looked confused, but his eyes were bright green, framed by dark lashes and his hair … Louis wasn’t one to think in poetic terms, but for this boy, every poetic line he could come up with applied.

He was torn back into reality, when Zayn asked, “who?”

Now, if earlier, Louis couldn’t find a reason why Zayn Malik didn’t deserve his boyfriend, he certainly found one now. If he wasn’t even recognising his own boyfriend, something must have gone terribly wrong in that relationship.

“Liam?” Zayn asked and frowned at Louis.

Louis threw another look at the boy standing in the door frame, before he looked back at Zayn. “Shouldn’t you of all people know?” He couldn’t quite bite back the question.

“Yeah, I suppose”, Zayn answered, confusion apparent in his voice. “Why would you think Harry is Liam?”

“What? Who?” Louis wasn’t any less confused. He looked from Zayn to the boy and back.

Zayn rolled his eyes and tilted his head to look at Harry. “What the actual fuck, Harry?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. I have no idea, really,” he said and looked back at Louis. “I don’t know him.”

“Excuse me,” Louis exclaimed. “It’s only been four days, and you already don’t remember?”

“Apparently, Louis here knows you very well,” Zayn unnecessarily added.

At the mention of Louis’ name, Harry’s eyes widened and a small curse left his lips. “The bloke who hit on me on Wednesday!”

Louis looked unimpressed.

Zayn only raised a brow. “I’m not gonna ask why exactly he thinks your name is Liam.”

Harry smiled sheepishly. “I may have lied about my name.”

What the actual fuck, Louis thought and, damn it, “what the actual fuck”, he said out loud.

“You use Liam’s name and give it out to some random strangers?” Zayn threw a look at Louis and mumbled a quiet, “sorry” about that remark.

Louis didn’t really mind, though. Zayn had a point and also, that bloke had blatantly lied to him, when Louis had thought he had fallen in love at first sight. He could only repeat himself: “What the actual fuck?”

“He asked me to marry him. A bit over the top, isn’t it?” Harry asked, as if Louis wasn’t even there and shook out his hair, swiped it back in one smooth movement. Louis hated how sexy it was. He should comment on what Harry had said, he really should, but he was too distracted by Harry’s face and curls and lanky body. It was a shame, really.

“You know what happened last time I told one of those drunks my name,” he said to Zayn.

“Oh yeah, I do,” Zayn answered and lightly smacked Harry’s head. “You told him Liam’s name, so he would stalk him instead?”

“No, of course not!” Harry pouted his lips. “If he came back asking for Liam, they would just tell him he had quit the job already. He wouldn’t have found him.”

“At which point exactly should I throw in that I am not a creepy stalker?” Louis asked, making the mental note to never, never ever, let anyone find out he had actually gone back on Friday and asked for Liam.

“We’re talking hypothesises here,” Harry pointed out.

“You’ve got the address from Andy, right?” Zayn asked with a suspicious look on his face.

It was Louis turn now to look at Zayn wide-eyed. “Are you fucking serious?”

Harry barked out a laugh and pinched Zayn’s arm. “He’s just being protective of his boyfriend,” he assured.

Zayn just shrugged a shoulder and kept an eye on Louis.

“What is this shit,” Louis mumbled under his breath. He ran a hand through his hair and instantly cursed inside, as he messed up what he had worked on for an eternity before he had come here. Just because he had wanted to leave a proper first impression on his potential new flat mate.

Instead, his potential new flat mate had turned out to be the mysterious wash-up boy he had developed a serious crush-at-first-sight on, had told Louis a false name and had led him on like that. Additionally, the guy every person in his Literature classes admired and was secretly crushing on, thought he was a creepy stalker who had only shown up tonight to jump his boyfriend.

Well, that had turned out almost as well as Louis had imagined. Proper first impression and all.

“So,” Harry dragged him out of his thoughts, “I assume you actually came here because of the room.”

Louis nodded slowly, glanced at Zayn who still watched him suspiciously. “I certainly didn’t come to stalk anyone,” he clarified. “And given the circumstances, I don’t actually think I want to move in here anymore.”

“What?” Harry frowned again. “Why?”

“Why?” Zayn and Louis repeated in sync.

“I mean, okay, we had a bit of a misunderstanding here…”

“A bit,” Louis said dryly and snorted. “I think it’s a fucking huge misunderstanding, to be honest.”

“What’s going on here?”

They all turned to the question and Louis saw another boy coming up the stairs, Tesco bags in one hand. He wore a beanie and a jeans jacket and Louis’ first thought was that he was dressed a little too light for January.

“I heard your voices, when I came home,” he said now and took the last few steps, before he sat his bags down and leaned over to Zayn to press a quick kiss to his lips.

Welcome the actual Liam in the picture, Louis thought. Great, things just got even better.

“You don’t really want to know,” Zayn said and threw another glare at Harry.

Liam looked like a confused puppy and as he pulled off his beanie, Louis wondered just how exactly this boy had resembled Niall’s image of _tall, lanky and curly hair_.

“You must be Louis,” Liam said with a friendly smile. “I’m Liam. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m not so sure,” Louis responded.

Harry and Zayn both groaned and Liam’s expression turned just even more confused.

“What Louis wants to say, is,” Zayn jumped in, “that Harry kind of fucked up.”

“I didn’t—”

“You did,” Zayn just said.

Liam shrugged and Louis admired him for not getting curious and asking questions. If it was him, he would probably demand the full story in all its details. Then again, Liam was probably used to Harry’s quirky actions and thus, didn’t even bother anymore.

And Harry sure as hell was the personification of _quirky_. That much Louis could already tell.

“Anyway,” Liam said, “I bought beer and soda. Are you staying for dinner, Louis?”

“This is so weird,” Louis pointed out.

Zayn nodded. “It kinda is.”

“It shouldn’t,” Liam clarified and his kind, disarming smile was back. “You’ll move in, after all. Better get used to us.”

“I’m not moving in.” Louis couldn’t think of anything scarier at the moment than having to live with Harry.

“Of course you are,” Liam said in his friendliest tone. “Harry’s already made space for you and as far as I heard you really need a room.”

“Who’s the stalker now?” Louis asked with glance to Zayn. “How have you heard? I don’t even know you.”

“Talked to Niall earlier today and he said he’ll bring over your stuff later. Actually,” Liam added and looked at his watch, “he’ll be here in about thirty, so we better get dinner ready.”

A smile spread across Zayn’s face and Harry just nodded, as if what Liam said was absolutely legit, before he went back into his flat and left it upon them to follow him or not.

Liam gestured for Louis to go ahead and his smile was still ever so friendly. Louis wondered just how exactly he did that and at the same time, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to shoot Liam or himself.

Probably Niall.

 

+++

 

“He seems quite nice, doesn’t he?”

Harry shrugged and put another plate into the sink. “He’s alright, I guess.”

Liam frowned slightly. “What’s wrong?”

“I met him before,” Harry admitted. “Zayn’s gonna tell you anyway, so I better get over with it now.”

“You guys met before?”

Harry shrugged and started washing the dishes. “He hit on me during my Wednesday shift. Pretty nonchalant, actually. He opened with a marriage proposal and kind of got to strange Pokemon questions.”

Liam laughed. “What a creep!” He took a towel and started drying the plates.

“Right?” Harry pursed his lips for a moment. “So, he asked for my name several times and I… well, I thought it wasn’t wise to tell him my name. You know what it’s like.”

“Yeah, creepy blokes around every corner there,” Liam agreed.

Harry nodded frantically. Probably Liam wouldn’t be as mad, if he understood what situation Harry had been in. No time better than right now, he figured and blurted out, “I, well… I used your name?”

Liam creased his brows and said nothing for a moment, processing what Harry had just said. He put down the forks he had just dried. “You used my name?”

“I kinda ended up telling him my name was Liam,” Harry continued and bit his lip. “I thought I’d never see him again, anyways. No Liam to be found in that place, after all.”

“Same goes for Stuart, Charles and Ben,” Liam pointed out. “Or any other random name.”

Harry shrugged with a sheepish expression. “Yours was the first that came to mind.”

“You’re something,” Liam sighed and shook his head, picking up a knife to dry. “Nothing but trouble, since I met you.”

“Not true,” Harry protested. “It’s the first time I caused trouble. And I really couldn’t know he would show up here.”

Liam watched him for a second. “Zayn knows the whole story?”

Harry nodded.

“And Louis showed up in front of our door instead of yours tonight?”

Harry nodded again, not sure where Liam was going with that.

“And,” he added, “you’re leaving him out there basically alone with Zayn now?”

“Wait, what?” Harry frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean? Niall’s with them, isn’t he?”

“Zayn definitely thinks of Louis as a creepy stalker. I know his mind; it’s the kind of conclusion he would jump to.” Liam shrugged. “And Niall’s too wrapped up in his popcorn to even notice should Zayn decide to stab Louis from behind.”

Harry made a surprised face. “We better get back, then.”

Liam nodded and Harry pulled the plug in the sink, before he opened the fridge and got them a bottle of beer each.

“I really think he’s a nice bloke,” Liam said. “Despite the creepy first encounter.”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. He was drunk, so I probably shouldn’t hold it against him. He’s not my type, anyway.”

Liam lifted a brow. “He’s not?”

“Nah. He’s a bit tiny, don’t you think?” Harry opened the bottles and gave Liam a look over his shoulder. “A bit too loud, a bit too witty. Not my cup of tea.”

Smiling, Liam lifted a shoulder. “Well, even better to rent out the room to him, then. Won’t get complicated.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, true.”

“Can’t use any more trouble after this, anyway.”

“I’m sorry?” Harry tried, as he handed one bottle to Liam.

Liam smiled and pulled Harry in for a quick squeeze. “You’re forgiven.”

 

+++

 

“You couldn’t wait to get rid of me, could you?” Louis hissed to Niall, as they sat in Harry’s living room after dinner. Harry and Liam were in the kitchen and Zayn sat in an arm chair, watching the programme on telly. That gave Louis time to finally have a go at Niall. “And you’re selling me off to the worst kind, on top.”

Niall laughed and took another swipe of his beer. “No hard feelings, mate. These are good lads.”

“You just heard the story, didn’t you?”

“Bit of a misunderstanding, is all.”

Louis fell silent to that. He really didn’t get how everyone saw what happened as a small, little misunderstanding. In his mind, it was a fucking huge one. Bet, nevermind him. That’s what all of them seemed to go by anyway.

Niall really had brought most of his stuff and all of them apparently thought that Louis had agreed to move in the second he had shown up at Harry’s doorstep. Or, well, Liam and Zayn’s doorstep in this case.

Harry and Liam came back, bottles of beer in their hands and Liam sat down on the armrest of Zayn’s chair. Zayn’s arms came around his waist, without him even looking up from the screen. Louis decided he really wanted to hate them for just that. They had been the perfect couple throughout the whole evening.

Harry sat down next to Niall and for a moment, there was nothing but silence.

Niall emptied his beer and then peered over to Liam and Zayn. “Just why exactly is all of your hair gone, Liam?”

Liam smiled sheepishly and glanced at Zayn who just squeezed his waist lightly. “Just a mood.”

Harry snorted.

Niall turned to him. “Spill.”

“They fought. Him and Zayn,” Harry said and pointed at them with his bottle. “Pretty nasty. Liam slept on my sofa for a few nights.”

“A bit melodramatic to shave your hair off because of a fight, don’t you think?” Louis pointed out.

Liam just shrugged and placed one hand on Zayn’s nape. “It was… Well, I thought he was over with me and yes, that felt rather melodramatic then.”

Niall nodded slightly. “What was it about?”

Zayn blushed and shifted in his seat. “None of your business.”

Louis raised his brows and a smirk spread across his face. “Okay, who cheated?”

“No one cheated,” Liam answered, tone offended. “What stupid assumption is that?”

“It really is stupid,” Harry pointed out. “Those two are so gone for each other, I feel second-hand embarrassment to even just be around them.”

“Tell me,” Louis mumbled. “I hadn’t figured yet.”

“Anyway,” Niall said. “If I had known you shaved your hair off, it would have saved Louis some frustration.”

Oh, fuck. Louis panicked. Niall, the fucking tattletale. Why couldn’t he ever shut up?

“What do you mean?” Zayn asked. His eyes found Louis and he raised a brow.

Niall didn’t notice - as always, that oblivious wanker - and continued, “when we met Andy and he talked to Liam on the phone, Louis connected the dots and asked me. His description fitted Liam, with the curly hair and all.”

“Niall…” Louis’ voice was quiet. Why couldn’t Niall just shut up? He would embarrass Louis in front of everyone and Louis really couldn’t take any more embarrassment. Tonight had already been enough of that for the rest of his life.

Niall laughed, as if he told the funniest story ever. And to him, it probably was; Louis wanted to punch him for that. “He was so devastated, when he went back Friday and they told him Liam had quit his job!”

The room fell silent and Niall finally seemed to notice something was off, throwing glances from Louis to Zayn and back.

“I knew it,” Zayn hissed. “You’re a fucking creep.”

Louis got to his feet. “Dare repeat that?”

“Creep,” Zayn said again and got up, too. Liam was behind him in less than a second, hand curled around his wrist. “You tried to stalk him, after all.”

“I am not stalking anyone!” Fuck, Louis knew that it looked pretty damn bad for him right now. He did look like a creep. Well, actually, Niall had made him look like a creep.

Harry piped in, “you went back to look for me?”

“I just…” Louis turned to him and it didn’t make the whole situation any better, because Harry was just fucking beautiful with his long limbs and green eyes and fucking cute curls. Of course Louis had gone back. Was there even a guy on earth who hadn’t gone back to that place for Harry? Louis just couldn’t imagine that there wasn’t.

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence you showed up at our door tonight,” Zayn said from behind him. Before Louis could deny that, though, Zayn had turned to Liam. “We’re not letting Harry stay with this creep.”

Liam gave him a soft look and squeezed his wrist. “Now, calm down, Zayn. I don’t think he could have gone this far only knowing a name.”

“It’s too much of coincidence, isn’t it?”

“I admit,” Louis said slowly, “it all looks a little shady. Maybe. But it’s not the case and actually,” he added and turned to Harry, “it’s all Harry’s fault for lying.”

“What?” Harry crossed his arms. “What does me lying about my name got to do with you stalking me?”

“Right,” Zayn said. “You went back and asked for him.”

“That doesn’t make me a stalker,” Louis defended himself. He had to get out of this somehow. He had to make them believe that he wasn’t what they thought he was. No one was allowed to leave this damn flat and still think of Louis as a creepy stalker. That’s not what he was and if he couldn’t make them believe it… Well, he’d have to kill them and he really didn’t want to go there.

“Well, it kind of makes you look like one,” Zayn reminded him.

Louis groaned and rolled his eyes. “I thought he was pretty, okay? I talked to him for a bit and decided to go back and find out, if he was just a pretty boy or if there was more to it.” He caught a glimpse of Harry and found him staring at Louis with a rather indifferent expression. How could he be indifferent? “Anyway, if I had met him again that night, I had probably figured out what I figured out now. Pretty boy, but not my type.”

Silence followed and Zayn narrowed his eyes at him. “Not your type?”

“No,” Louis confirmed. And it really was the only thing he could say to get out of this, wasn’t it? Pretending to have no interest in Harry whatsoever, was the only way to save his ass here. And his ass was probably the only body part of his that was worth being saved. “Not my cup of tea.”

He saw Liam exchange a quick look with Harry and wondered what exactly was going on there, before Harry made a step towards him and put a hand to his shoulder. Louis felt his skin prickle and heat up from the touch, even through the fabric of his shirt.

“You can move in right away,” Harry declared.

Louis just stared at him, mouth slightly gaping.

Zayn and Liam exchanged a look and the tension seemed to ease from Zayn’s body, before he nodded. “Okay. No creepy stalker, then,” he said and buried his hands in his pockets.

Niall put down his empty bowl, munching on the last bits of popcorn. “Okay. Now that we’ve settled this, who’s in for a round of FIFA?”

Liam joined him on the couch and grabbed one of the controllers and Zayn gave Louis one last scrutiny, before he plopped down on the sofa next to his boyfriend.

Harry squeezed Louis’ shoulder and let go, offering them another round of beer.

And Louis just stood there, frozen in his spot and wondered what exactly was going on.

Had Harry offered him to move in, because Louis had claimed to not be interested in him? What the actual fuck - he couldn’t be serious! Or, maybe, he could. Because, now Louis didn’t look like a creepy stalker type of guy anymore. Except for how he had completely lied about not being interested in Harry.

How had he even ended up here?

Niall really knew all kinds of people, good and bad. And Louis really wasn’t sure whether these blokes were in Team Good or Team Bad.

Harry came back from the kitchen and pressed a bottle of beer into Louis’ hand. Louis joined them on the sofa and as Harry squeezed in next to him and their thighs touched, he wondered just how bad this would get.

Later that night, when they were all a little tipsy, Louis had decided that despite the rough start they had, they all played for Team Good. Zayn was actually a rather quiet bloke. He acted protective over Liam and watched out for him all the time, what still made Louis feel sick to his stomach, because they just acted so couple-y. Liam was all soft and nice and responsible and sensible. He joked with them, but he was the one to take the bottle from Harry’s hand, as it got too much and he was the one to barge in, when Niall and Louis started fighting while playing FIFA (although Niall had cheated and he had deserved Louis kicking his ass for that).

And Harry — Harry was just perfect. He was dry humour and childish remarks, loud laughter and quiet mumbles. He laughed at Louis’ stupid jokes and cuddled up to Zayn, as he ran a hand through Harry’s hair, complaining how he missed Liam’s. He was open and taking every bit of attention he could get and Louis wanted to give him all of his. His lips were pink and turned dark red, when he bit them, while he concentrated on the game and his voice was so low and he talked slow and had the most random mind. His cheeks had turned red, his pale skin heated from the alcohol and his green eyes sparkling and bright with laughter and Louis realised that this would get pretty bad.

He didn’t even know Harry that well yet, but he was already gone for him.

Louis definitely had some very rough three months ahead.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this took quite a little longer than I expected. We get a bit more of Harry in this. I hope you like it! :)

Harry found Louis in the living room, as he came home a few days later. Classes had ended a little earlier and Harry wanted to take a quick nap, before he had to head out again for his job.

Louis lay sprawled over the sofa, dressed in pyjama pants and a t-shirt and his hair a little messed up.

“Hey,” Harry said from the door and Louis lifted his head to look at him, a smile forming on his lips.

“Hey,” he answered and dropped his head back to the cushions. “I ordered some Chinese. There’s plenty left in the fridge. Help yourself.”

Harry smiled and decided to take a minute and sit with Louis, so he went to the kitchen to grab some food. As he opened the fridge and saw five containers of Chinese food, Harry frowned. He shoved some onto a plate and heated it up in the microwave.

It had only been two days, but so far, living with Louis was rather comfortable. He was a nice bloke and very easy-going. He was a bit messy, as far as Harry could tell, but he didn’t actually need much. The room hadn’t yet been furnished, as Louis had to get his stuff from his old flat first and he didn’t actually seem to stress about it. He had spent the last two nights on the sofa and Harry knew just how uncomfortable it was to sleep on.

Louis had not yet complained, though.

Like that, Harry had found out bits and pieces about Louis, as he would always meet him like today, launching on the sofa in the living room, head bent over a book or watching some shitty programme on telly. Louis apparently was a sucker for reality shows, such as _X Factor_ and _My Perfect Wedding_ and _The Only Way Is Essex_. If not that, any classic on ITV4 would do for Louis.

He never turned down the chance to talk, though, so when Harry joined him and started conversation, he always jumped on it and talked eagerly.

Harry already knew that Louis had come from Doncaster to Manchester almost three years ago. He was 22, had finished his A-Levels with 18 and had spent a year in London. He had planned to go to University there, but during the year he had jobbed down in London, he had found he didn’t like the city and had moved back to attend University in Manchester instead.

He had four younger sisters, as far as Harry had caught on and going by the look he got on his face, when he mentioned either of their names, he adored them to death. Which was quite cute, actually.

Having someone like Louis move in with him was an actual lucky strike for Harry. They got along just fine and Harry had the feeling they could become good mates, too.

Harry took his plate from the microwave and headed back to the living room. Jeremy Kyle was on and Louis just barked out a laugh, as Harry came in. From what Harry caught, they were arguing which of the two men present was Milinda’s biological father. The usual, Harry thought, as he walked in.

“Just exactly why is there Chinese food for a whole Chinese army in the fridge?” he asked and sat down in the arm chair, swung his legs over the armrest to get comfortable.

Louis turned to him, lying on his stomach and grinned. “I had a few friends come by today to help me out moving my things and we ended up ordering more for lunch than we could eat.”

Harry looked up from his plate. “You moved your things today?”

Louis nodded. “Yup. My bed, wardrobe and all kinds of boxes filled with all my belongings are now squeezed into your spare room.”

“That was sooner than I expected.”

“Well, I had only one class this morning and Liam pressed it a bit,” Louis said.

Harry swallowed. “Liam?”

Louis shrugged. “I sat with Zayn. Well, he actually came to sit with me,” he noticed, as if they were in high school and that made any difference. “And Liam showed up after class to take him home. So, they helped and I called up a few friends of mine and we got over with it.”

Harry frowned, as he realised the curiosity blooming in his chest. He wanted to see what Louis’ room looked like now. But he wasn’t sure if that would cross any boundaries. He had no idea, if they had any. After all, when he had shown Louis around the flat, he hadn’t opened the door to his bedroom, either. That was just something private and for now, the only room in this flat that belonged to him alone. It was the same for Louis, Harry figured.

He suppressed the curiosity.

“What?” Louis asked, though. “What are you frowning at?”

“Nothing,” Harry said quickly and put the empty plate to the table. “Just calculated my time until work.”

“You’re working tonight?”

“Yes. I am down to two shifts for this week and one shift starting next week,” Harry told him, as he stretched. “Wednesdays are rather quiet, so that will be alright until I find another job.”

Louis made an acknowledging sound in his throat. “When are you usually finished?”

A grin spread over Harry’s face and he just couldn’t hold it back. “Why? Are you planning on waiting for me?”

Louis gave him an indignant look, before he turned back to face the TV screen. “No, just curious.”

Harry laughed lightly and kicked his feet against the chair he was sitting in. “Wednesdays we usually close around three and I’m home around seven.”

“What are you doing during those four hours?” Louis frowned.

“Well, we clean the place, after we close and I usually have to wait for the bus, as they drive only once every hour that early in the morning.” Harry shrugged and tilted his head back against the cushions. “So, yeah, home at seven for a shower and a quick breakfast before classes start at eight.”

“That’s suicide,” Louis pointed out.

“That’s why Liam insists I’ll find another job.”

“I’m not sure if you noticed,” Louis said after a moment and sat up, “but those two act like your parents.”

Harry laughed and pushed his hair out of his face. “Yeah, I did notice at some point. Zayn’s just one to protect and Liam is one to worry.”

“Do you call Zayn Daddy and Liam Mummy?” A mischievous smile formed around Louis’ lips, but even more in his eyes. Harry noticed the crinkles and a sudden flash of adoration rushed through his veins. It was gone as quickly as it came. “You can be honest with me.”

“You’d be the first to tell the world,” Harry said dryly.

“Have you met Niall?”

Harry couldn’t fight the laughter that bubbled out of his throat. “Yeah, true. Still. No, I don’t.”

Louis raised his eyebrows in a mocking way. “I bet you do. I’ll find out eventually.”

Harry just grinned mysteriously. “Perhaps there are times when I call both of them Daddy.”

Louis snorted out a laugh and fell back to the cushions, holding his stomach. “You’re quite like the Daddy kink type of guy.”

Watching him, Harry grinned silently, before he got up and picked up his plate. “I’ll catch a few hours sleep before work.”

Louis tilted his head back to catch a glimpse of him. “Sweet dreams.”

Harry kept looking at him, as Louis shifted on the sofa and glued his attention back to Jeremy Kyle and his guests who would find out by the end of the show who really was Milinda’s father. His hair was flat and messy and Harry frowned at how he felt the urge to fix it with his hands.

Why did he even have such thoughts about Louis’ fricking hair? He never bothered getting his own hair fixed, so why should he do that with someone else’s hair?

Shaking his head, he went to his room and stripped down naked, before he crawled beneath his duvet and closed his eyes to get some sleep.

 

+++

 

When Harry came home next morning, Louis was already up and on his second cup of tea. He had just showered and wore nothing but his boxers, skin still slightly wet and flushed from his shower, his hair dripping.

For a brief moment, Louis considered retreating to his room. He really didn’t want Harry to see him this way. Louis wasn’t all that confident about his body. But Harry didn’t seem like a person who would make fun of his belly or his funny curved legs.

Or would he?

It was too late, however, when he heard the door open and close quietly and then, Harry shuffled into the kitchen. His hair was messy, as always, maybe just a little worse, his black jeans tight and the orange shirt slightly oversized. His eyes looked tired and he was pale.

Louis wanted to take him into his arms, tuck him under his duvet and pet and caress him until he would fall asleep.

“You’re up,” Harry noticed, as he spotted Louis.

Louis shrugged and got out another cup to prepare him a tea. “Classes at eight.”

Harry groaned and Louis remembered that Harry had classes at eight, too.

“Would you rather like coffee?”

“Yes, please.” Harry sat down at the table and stretched out his long legs. Louis couldn’t help but at least glance at the sight. He caught Harry looking back and quickly turned to get sugar and milk.

“It’s actually funny,” Harry said now and his voice sounded as tired as he looked.

“What?” Louis asked, as he poured water into the cup.

“That I catch you almost naked in the kitchen.”

Louis turned and raised a brow. Apparently, Harry would. No other way than to act over it — it was the only choice Louis had to not let Harry see his insecurity. “Are you complaining?”

“No, not really,” Harry answered and leaned forward, as Louis placed the cup in front of him. He smiled a grateful smile. “It’s just, usually people catch _me_ running around naked. Or almost naked.”

“Well, to my defence, I have to say I just came out of the shower.”

Harry smiled and Louis loved to see the life in them, see the tiredness fade a little. “I don’t need any defence. I just like being naked.”

Louis choked on air and coughed slightly. Too much information; too clear images in his head. He quickly gripped his cup and gulped down some tea, promptly burned his tongue. He bit down on it to not make an embarrassing noise.

Laughing, Harry got up. “Just warning you. I am actually a little puzzled that it hasn’t happened yet.”

“Yeah, um,” Louis answered, unsure what exactly he was supposed to say. He had images in mind he shouldn’t have and that took the ability to form coherent sentences from him. “Thanks for the warning, I guess,” he managed to say, eventually.

“I need to hurry now. Have to catch a bus in thirty,” Harry told him, as he stretched, the orange shirt sliding up a little and exposing pale, smooth skin. And ink - Louis could make out another bit of black just right over Harry’s hip bone. At some point he would take his time to ask Harry about his tattoos.

He tried to concentrate on what Harry had said and realised that Harry talked about the bus Louis had planned to take, too.

“I can drop you off,” he heard himself say. “I’m driving.”

That was a lie - a complete lie. He had planned to take the bus, but if it would give him some extra time with Harry and if it meant that Harry could take some more time and get some kind of rest, Louis was willing to change his plans.

“You have a car?”

“Yeah, nothing too fancy, but it drives,” Louis said.

“Well, if you don’t mind,” Harry accepted the offer. “That gets me some extra time.”

“No problem.” Louis emptied his cup and took his and Harry’s to the sink. “We’ll leave in forty-five minutes.”

Harry didn’t say anything else, before he disappeared to the bathroom.

Louis stayed and took a moment to collect himself, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. He was the biggest fool walking this planet and it’s been only three days and yet, Louis went out of his way for Harry.

Actually, just yesterday, it had occurred to Louis that possibly Harry wasn’t even gay. There weren’t any signs for him to be. Louis had hit on him in the club and afterwards, because of Niall’s misleading, Louis had assumed Harry had a boyfriend. But actually, Harry did not have a boyfriend. He didn’t have any girlfriend, either, but that wasn’t anything to go by.

Louis couldn’t be sure of Harry’s sexuality. Although, Louis was rather skilled in picking out a gay boy. So far, he had never once hit on a straight guy —- what had saved him a lot of embarrassment.

But, there were firsts for everything.

And probably Harry was a first in that aspect.

Louis really hoped he wasn’t. He wanted to at least have a tiny chance. If Harry turned out to be straight, Louis would have the hardest time of his life living with him for three months.

Louis was good and seductive and convincing; but not enough to turn a straight bloke gay.

With a sigh, Louis ran a hand through his wet hair, before he got to his room to get dressed. When he came back outside, dressed in casual jeans and jumper, hair styled, Harry just left his room, as well.

“I just realised,” Louis said, as he put on his coat. “I don’t even know what you study.”

Harry laughed and pulled a beanie over his curls. His face looked pale. “You’re lucky. I’m doing Linguistics and that’s not too far off the English department.”

“Okay, so no detour on my way to classes.” Louis opened the door for Harry, gesturing for him to go ahead. He followed and locked the door with the key Harry had given him Sunday night.

It was odd, how easily they had adjusted to each other. Apart from having a crush on him, it was actually easy around Harry. Louis still thought of him as quirky, but quirky in a good way. Harry didn’t make things complicated and that made it easy to live with him. He was relaxed about almost everything and laid-back about Louis being rather messy and chaotic. Harry didn’t complain when Louis left his tea cup on the couch table instead of taking it to the kitchen and he didn’t seem to bother for Louis never tidying up in the living room or bathroom. Instead, Harry just wordlessly brought everything back into order, the way he liked it.

Louis had decided on living alone for those reasons, actually. He had thought living with someone would mean having to be considerate about the other person. But, Harry made it all so easy. It had only been two days, but Louis had a feeling that things between them had already adjusted to how it would be for the rest of the upcoming three months.

And he liked it. Harry was the perfect person to live with. Apart from his quirkiness (what was really just adorable to Louis) and the fact that _it was_ adorable and Louis had a huge fucking crush on him.

They left the house and Louis led Harry to where he had parked his car the day before, after he had made the last ride to his previous flat and Niall’s flat to get all of his stuff.

Harry cocked a brow, looking at the small, old Volkswagen Polo. “‘Not too fancy’ wasn’t an understatement.”

Louis shrugged. “Better not complain when I do you a favour.”

“I’m just stating facts.”

“You’re being rude to Henry.”

Harry’s face lit up with a grin, as he got into the passenger’s seat. “Your car’s name is Henry?”

“It was Harry,” Louis mocked him, as he started the engine. “But my youngest sister caught it wrong and always ended up saying Henry. So, now it’s Henry.”

“You are aware that Henry is the only true name for a hoover?”

“That’s the red, round one with the smiley face, isn’t it?”

“Exactly. We have one of those in the flat. In case it ever crosses your mind that you’d like to clean up after you spread biscuit crumbles all over the carpet.” Harry fumbled with his seat belt and shot Louis a grin.

“I would, if it was Hetty.” Louis shrugged his shoulders and gave a defeated sigh. “I am afraid I can only work with Hetty The Hoover.”

“Should have known you’d only be up for the pink version. Cliché and all.”

“Don’t throw gay clichés at me. Also, Henry is a guy,” Louis argued. “And despite you working against every straight guy cliché by spending your time cleaning and baking, it’s actually a women’s thing. Thus, a hoover should have a woman’s name.”

Harry seemed to consider that. “Then, your car should have a woman’s name. It’s such a girly car. What man buys a Polo?”

“A man with a low budget and a mum who passed down her old car to her son, after she bought herself a new car.” Louis stopped at a traffic light and they watched a group of primary school kids cross the street.

“I see,” Harry just said. “Fair enough.”

They spent the rest of the ride in silence, only filled by the low music playing on the radio and Harry’s occasional yawn.

“When do you finish today?” Harry asked, shortly before they reached the Linguistics department.

“About half 12,” Louis answered. “You?”

“Same. I have lunch with Zayn and Liam every Thursday. Why don’t you come, as well?”

Louis hesitated for a second. “Zayn’s in my 10 to 12 class. I reckon I’d better ask him first. Don’t want him to think I started stalking him, when I follow him to lunch all of a sudden.”

Harry laughed again and despite his tired eyes, his cheeks didn’t look as pale anymore and Louis just wanted to run a finger over the dimple in his left cheek. “You better talk to him. He can take you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Harry smiled and unbuckled his seat belt. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you for lunch.”

“Don’t fall asleep,” Louis just said and raised a hand, as Harry shut the door and hurried down the sidewalk.

Louis pulled up the street again and let go of a deep sigh.

He’d have a mental breakdown if Harry turned out to be straight. That much was for sure.

 

+++

 

“How is the job hunt going?” Liam asked, as he reached over to Zayn’s plate and took one of the chicken nuggets. Zayn pushed his plate a little closer to Liam, earning a small smile.

Harry shrugged. “Okay, I guess? As long as Louis’s staying with me, I keep working Wednesdays. But I sent out applications.”

“What kind of jobs did you apply for?”

“Book shops, bakeries, coffee shops. A clothing shop, too.”

Louis had been living with Harry for two weeks now and after last week’s lunch on Thursday, they met up this Thursday, too. Zayn had actually been rather delighted to take Louis and Louis had been rather delighted that Zayn had stopped suspecting him of creepy intentions. Instead, they sat next to each other in whatever classes they had together and Louis found that he really liked Zayn.

Louis had taken Harry to uni this morning again, just as he had the week before. And with Harry just confirming that he would keep doing his Wednesday shift, Louis reckoned he would do that for the rest of the term. He couldn’t bear the thought of Harry rushing from work to uni, probably not even making it home in between some days.

“Bakery,” Louis said and swirled noodles onto his fork. “That would suit you quite well.” 

“You could get us free cakes and sweets,” Niall piped in, his mouth full.

“That shouldn’t be the criteria to choose a job,” Harry stated. “But I’d like a job at a bakery.”

“Reminds me, did you buy that Cake Poops baker you wanted? Or should we get it for your birthday?”

“Zayn!” Liam rolled his eyes. “Could you be a bit more subtle? He’s not supposed to know what we’ll get him.”

Zayn shrugged. “I guess he could add one and one, if I had asked him about a Cake Pops baker out of the blue. Seriously? Why would I have any interest in if he has one? I am certainly not going to suddenly want to bake Cake Pops.”

“Cake Pops?” Louis frowned.

Harry turned to him. “Cakes that look like lollypops.”

Louis suppressed a smile. Had he ever had a doubt that Harry might be gay? That was the gayest thing he’s heard in his life. “That’s what you bake?”

Harry nodded, before he turned back to Liam and Zayn. “And yes, I still want one. But I will pretend I forgot all about the conversation we just had, and be all surprised when you get me one for my birthday.”

“When is your birthday?” Niall piped in.

“Next Thursday,” Harry answered. “And, I forgot to tell you, Louis,” he added, turning back to him. “We’ll have a party on Friday. I invited some friends from uni and some from home. If you’d like anyone to come, don’t hesitate to invite them, too.”

Harry’s birthday, Louis thought and managed a nod. This came too soon. He didn’t know Harry well enough to pull something extraordinary for his birthday. Something to impress Harry and make him change his mind about Louis not being _his cup of tea_.

So later, when they sat next to each other in Louis’ car and he drove, while Harry tried to stay awake, Louis asked, “is there anything you would like me to get you for your birthday?” Because, really, Louis hadn’t much of another choice. He did know a few things about Harry, but not nearly enough to get him anything he was sure Harry would like.

Harry shook his head, and it actually looked like slow motion. “Nothing. You don’t need to get anything for me.”

Louis decided not to argue. Or rather, not to argue now. Harry looked so tired and obviously, all he wanted was his bed. Last week, Harry had stayed up until almost half nine, before he had gone to bed. Louis had a feeling that he wouldn’t manage tonight.

They arrived at the flat and Louis locked up for them, let Harry stumble in first. He went straight to the living room and fell onto the sofa, switching on the telly. Louis followed and just watched Harry for a moment, before he sat down next to him.

“Would you like some tea?”

Harry shook his head and made some more space for Louis, curling up his legs. “‘m fine, thanks.”

Louis nodded and took his book from the table. He had left it there yesterday night. Louis was aware that he could actually go to his room and read in silence, without being distracted by the programme on telly or Harry’s comments, but he liked being around Harry, and watching telly with him was actually nice. They had come accustomed to each other, liked about the same shows and it was nice to have dinner together and talk about the day or whatever else crossed Louis’ mind. There was nothing too quirky, really. He could say anything and Harry would have an answer, a comeback or just a laugh.

As he, however, found that he had read a good thirty minutes in silence, he checked on Harry, bent forwards to have a look at his face and found Harry staring at the screen with half-lidded eyes. Louis put down his book and reached out a hand to run it over Harry’s curls. Harry moved his head and gave him a tired smile.

“You should really go to bed, Harry,” Louis pointed out.

“Can’t. It’ll throw me off. I’d sleep until midnight and then, lie awake all night.” He sat up and kicked his feet against the bottom of the sofa.

“I’ll wake you up,” Louis reassured him. “I’m working on my paper anyway. I can come and drag you out of bed in about an hour or two.”

Harry shook his head, his expression stubborn. “No, really. I’ll just sit here and watch some Jezza Kyle.”

Sighing, Louis shrugged and went back to his reading. He sometimes looked up, when he heard Harry chuckle slightly to check what was happening on the screen and then, to check what Harry was doing. He had shifted and was closer to Louis now and his head rested against the backrest of the sofa, curls softly framing his face and sticking to the fabric. His eyes were red and dark underneath.

Another thirty minutes later and Louis was dragged from his reading, as Harry’s head fell to his shoulder. He turned and felt him nuzzle close, his face buried to Louis’ neck and a jolt of heat rushed through Louis’ body.

Here he sat, with the boy he was crushing on cuddling up to him in his sleep. It was jinxed — Louis was jinxed; he was certain about it.

Turning his head, he dared looking at Harry, saw the dark lashes against his cheeks, his even breathing and Louis considered it for a second, before he lowered his book and leaned in slightly to press his lips against Harry’s temple.

His hair was softer than Louis had expected it beneath his lips, and it faintly smelled of the shampoo Harry had used when he had washed it this morning. The heat was gone and replaced by something gentle and rather warm and for just a moment, Louis decided to close his eyes and indulge in the feeling.

It was too nice to let it go like that, to not take every bit he could get from it. Harry was warm and heavy and just perfectly fitting against him and his breath was moist over the skin of Louis’ neck. Nothing could feel as nice as this.

Not in this moment.

 

+++

 

Harry woke up to a loud noise coming from the TV screen. He lifted his head from where he had put it on Louis’ shoulder and blinked his eyes in confusion. Turning his head, he caught a look at Louis, sleeping peacefully, sprawled beneath him.

Harry put his chin to Louis’ chest and watched his face for a moment. This was definitely something that should not have happened. Them, falling asleep together on the sofa was no big deal, but apparently they had cuddled up to each other. Or, as Harry had to admit, it was him who had cuddled up to Louis. After all, he was the one lying on top, arm around Louis’ waist and his head had rested on Louis’ shoulder. Louis had put an arm over the small of Harry’s back, while the other still held the book and loosely hung from the edge of the sofa. His face looked peaceful, his breath even, his lips slightly parted.

It would be easy to tilt up his chin now and lock their lips together.

Harry frowned over that thought and kept looking at Louis’ sleeping face. Where had that come from? Louis wasn’t even his type and Harry wasn’t romantically interested in him in the slightest. Also, this was exactly how bad porn started. Falling asleep on each other, until the first of them to wake up would give the other one a rather sensual wakening.

Okay, these thoughts in connection with Louis had to stop. Harry sat up and slid off Louis, sat on the floor and checked his watch. It was just about five, so they had not slept for too long. Looking at Louis again, Harry smiled slightly and nudged his shoulder with one hand.

Louis wasn’t his type, but Harry sure did like him more than fine. He was funny and genuine and so easy to get along with, caring and sweet. Harry hadn’t had conversations like those he had with Louis in a long while. He could easily keep up with Harry and he had the feeling there was nothing he couldn’t talk about with Louis.

Groaning, Louis reacted to the nudging and slowly opened his eyes, his gaze instantly locking onto Harry’s face.

“Wake up, Rapunzel,” Harry said with a smile.

“It’s Sleeping Beauty, idiot,” Louis replied with a sleepy voice. “Rapunzel is the one with the hair.”

“Whatever,” Harry answered and shrugged. “Princess. You get the point.”

“Yeah, I’m a princess. Won’t argue that.” Louis stretched and sat up. “Are you my servant then?”

“I’d rather be a prince.”

Louis gave him a smile, before he yawned and playfully messed up Harry’s curls. “You’re far from being a prince. No charm at all.”

Harry rolled his eyes and got up. “I’ll fix some dinner.”

“Told you. Servant,” Louis pointed out.

Harry shook his head and left the living room and promptly stumbled, almost fell into one of the boxes Louis had left in the floor. He cursed and rubbed a hand over his shin.

“Clumsy servant,” Louis corrected himself from the living room, voice raised, so Harry would hear.

“Shut up.”

“You okay?” Louis asked then and Harry wanted to go and kick him, for asking the question after insulting him first.

“Fuck you,” he answered instead.

“I’ll take that as a Yes.”

Harry went into the kitchen and smiled to himself. Had he just thought about kissing Louis three minutes ago? They made pretty good mates, but they’d actually make an awful couple.

They were all about the banter and they did have good chemistry — but only as friends. Harry had been alone for too long, that’s why the thought had even just crossed his mind. Under different circumstances he would not have even snuggled up to Louis like that.

It was pathetic, really. And probably a sign that it was time to go out again and pick up some one night man to release some tension.

Harry frowned slightly, as he heard Louis sing along to a random ad jingle on telly and it broke into a grin, as Louis dramatically screeched the high note at the end. That boy was hilarious. How was he even real with his quick mind and shamelessness and that ridiculous contagious smile of his?

And how exactly had Harry’s mind wandered from sex to Louis again?

It really was about time he got laid.

 

+++

 

“You still want to shag him.”

Louis kicked Niall’s shin under the table. “I don’t.”

“Seriously,” Niall said and shook his head. “You’ve been talking for the past thirty minutes and all I can remember is _Harry_.”

“No,” Louis calmly answered. “I told you about my week.”

“And everything you did involved Harry. From your paper on Jane Eyre to the spontaneous footie game you played this afternoon.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to shag him.” Louis frowned, as Niall got up and walked out of the kitchen to answer the door.

It was Wednesday and Louis’ third week with Harry. And Louis knew that counting weeks by how long he’d lived with Harry was a bad sign for how gone he was and a sure sign for how right Niall was. But, no way in hell would he ever admit to that.

He didn’t really have a choice. Because, the only reason he got to even be around Harry, live with him, was because Louis had reassured him and everyone else that he wasn’t interested in Harry.

Niall came back with Zayn on his feet.

“Hey mate,” Zayn greeted him and put a box wrapped in black and pink to Niall’s kitchen table. Louis looked at it with a frown. “Harry’s birthday present,” Zayn informed him.

“I am going to get on Harry’s nerves to make some of those Cake Pops for his party,” Niall announced. “I googled them and they are definitely something I want to try.”

Louis cocked a brow. “I googled them, and it’s definitely something for girls.”

“Making them is for girls,” Niall corrected. “But they are different cakes mixed together, with icings and chocolate and sugary decors. Sounds like heaven, in my ears.”

“Sounds girly to me, too,” Zayn added. He sat down next to Louis. “Talking about Harry —-”

“We were not really,” Louis interrupted. “We talked about girly cakes.”

“About the same,” Zayn smirked. “Liam’s got classes until eight tonight, but I texted him and he’s up for something more fancy for tomorrow’s lunch. For Harry’s birthday and all.”

Niall nodded and placed a cup in front of Zayn, before he poured him some tea and gave Louis another refill, too. “He’ll have his party on Friday, so I guess doing lunch for his birthday is a good idea.”

“Did you have a place in mind?” Louis asked.

“Liam looked up some place not too far from uni. He said his sister recommended it to him.”

Nodding, Louis put his hands around his cup, watched the steam. “Text me the details. I’ll pick him up from classes and make sure he gets there.”

“I thought, like, we could all go together?” Zayn shrugged. “You’re driving anyway, aren’t you?”

Louis nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Sounds good.”

“A surprise for Harry,” Niall swooned. “He’ll love it.”

Louis smiled gently down at his cup. “He will.”

“Is he working tonight?” Zayn asked.

“As usual.”

Zayn wrinkled his nose. “He could have taken off for his birthday, at least.”

“He’s trying to not make a big deal of his birthday, but, actually, he’s excited like a six-year-old.” Louis shook his head, sipped his tea. “He’s planned out every detail for that party and he’s been telling me for days whom he expects to call and text and who will definitely forget.”

Niall grinned. “We should all pretend we forgot, until we take him for lunch.”

“He’d give me puppy eyes all morning,” Louis argued.

Laughing, Zayn leaned back in his chair. “He’d think the world was ending. Not so much because any of us forgot. But, Liam of all people. Liam wouldn’t ever forget a best mate’s birthday.”

“It would scare the shit out of Harry,” Niall said excitedly. “Let’s do it.”

“No way. I wouldn’t stand a chance. I live with him!” Louis reminded him.

“What did you get him?” Zayn asked.

Louis shrugged, shifting in his seat. “Um,” he mumbled. “I wasn’t too sure what he would like.”

“Excuse me?” Niall raised his brows. “You spent more time with him during the past three weeks than you spent with anyone else in your entire life.”

“That is not even remotely true,” Louis pouted.

“That’s just like forgetting his birthday,” Zayn clarified. “You’ll get the puppy eyes all day.”

Louis remembered those words, as he came back home later that evening. It wasn’t all that easy. Yes, he and Harry had spent a lot of time together and yes, they had bonded rather quickly and whatever they shared was special and strong and … absolutely, completely platonic.

Anything Louis would want to get Harry for his birthday would reveal his feelings, he was afraid, and anything he could get that wouldn’t reveal his feelings, would be too meaningless.

Louis had pondered over that question for so long and before he had realised it, it had been too late. Harry’s birthday was tomorrow and Louis was empty-handed.

Fuck, he had really messed that up.

He stopped in the doorframe to the living room and gave Harry a confused look. He sat on the floor, bent over the couch table, writing on a blank paper. Harry looked up and greeted him with a small smile.

“Why are you up? Aren’t you taking a nap before work?”

Harry shook his head. “No time today. I have to finish a homework for tomorrow.”

“Oh, well,” Louis said. He stared at Harry for a little longer, unsure what to say. “I brought some dinner; leftovers from what we ordered. Some Curry Rice from the Thai Palast.”

“Cool. Thanks.” Harry beamed at him. “I’ll just quickly finish this up.”

“I’ll heat it up for you.”

In the kitchen, Louis put some of the rice on a plate and heated it up in the microwave, watching the plate spin, with his thoughts lost over Harry’s birthday and the present Louis didn’t have, as well as Harry’s pale face and tired eyes he got to see every Thursday. He wondered just how tired he would look tomorrow.

Harry really wasn’t supposed to be dead tired on his birthday.

The microwave rang shortly and Louis took the plate back to the living room, placing it next to Harry’s elbow. He sat down on the sofa and watched Harry scribble the last few words.

“I’m late,” Harry said and picked up the spoon, digging in. “Thanks for dinner. I am surprised there are leftovers, at all.”

“Niall’s probably coming down with something.”

Harry looked genuinely shocked and dropped his spoon to the plate. Louis wanted to kiss him.”He can’t. My party’s on Friday.”

Louis laughed and ruffled Harry’s hair. “I’m joking. I ordered an extra portion for you.”

Looking relieved, Harry resumed his dinner. “Okay, good. And, thanks, I guess,” he added.

Harry finished his dinner and Louis watched something on telly, while Harry got changed for work. He peeked his head into the living room to say goodbye and Louis gave him a quick wave. Then, Harry was off to work and Louis was left alone with the smell of Curry Rice in the living room, mixed with Harry’s cologne and some shitty programme on telly.

His thoughts always went back to how much he disliked the whole situation of Harry’s birthday coming up and him not having anything prepared. Also, he didn’t like that Harry went to work without having caught some sleep beforehand. He’d be dead by tomorrow morning.

He should probably skip classes.

Louis grabbed the paper from the table and sighed, as he saw what he had expected. It was for Harry’s eight o’clock class; in other words, Harry had to show up tomorrow.

Later in bed, Louis tossed and turned, thought of Harry, drifted off to sleep and dreamt of him, before he woke up again and stared at the ceiling, mind completely occupied with Harry.

This wasn’t healthy anymore. Harry was on his mind 24/7; at least it felt like that. And Louis couldn’t do anything about it. Everything was about Harry. Everything reminded Louis of him. There was nothing he could do about it, nothing he could do to stop it and go back to normal.

What even was normal? Louis couldn’t tell anymore.

But, he figured, there _was_ something he could actually do.

It was Harry’s birthday after all.

 

+++

 

Harry ran a hand over his face and sighed, as he left the club. It had been a rather quiet night, not very busy and they had closed early. It wasn’t even half four and although it was good they had finished early, it didn’t help him all that much, as he had to wait until six for the first bus.

Happy birthday, he thought with a sarcastic smile. He would spent a good part of his birthday morning out on a bus station, in the cold February air. The thought alone made him pull his jacket tighter around his waist and his beanie further over his ears.

“Hey, birthday boy.”

Harry turned to that and froze, stared at the other side of the car park. Only one car was still left and he knew it too well. Louis leaned against it, wrapped in his coat and a beanie — that was actually Harry’s — and he grinned.

His smile wasn’t supposed to be so warm on a foggy, dark February morning.

Harry stared at him, not quite sure if his tired eyes betrayed him. “Hey,” he said.

“I guess you could need a ride?” Louis offered.

“What are you doing here?” Harry slowly approached him.

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it? Figured there’s no better thing to do for you today than to pick you up and get you home. To your bed.”

Bed, Harry thought and a delightful warmth spread through him. Oh yes, he really wanted his bed. He was so tired, he didn’t think he could keep his eyes open, even when walking.

“Get in,” Louis said and gently wrapped a hand around Harry’s upper arm to drag him closer.

Harry hadn’t yet found his speech. He wanted to say something, wanted to thank Louis, but he couldn’t get the words out.

This was just —- well, unexpected.

Louis got into the driver’s seat and Harry followed suit, getting into the passenger’s seat, buckling on his seat belt.

“Did you actually stay up,” Harry finally managed to ask, as Louis pulled out the parking lot.

“No,” Louis assured him. “I had a couple of hours sleep.”

“You didn’t have to. Come and pick me up, I mean.”

“I figured I could be nice for once.” Louis grinned at him. “Since it’s your birthday and all.”

Harry looked at him for a moment and thought that it was more than just being nice. This was pretty much Louis going out of his way for Harry. And Harry wasn’t sure what to think of what that made him _think_.

What was he even supposed to think?

Louis seemed to notice, however. “Look. You have a great day ahead and if you don’t get any sleep, you’ll completely miss out on it or you’ll spend it with your head on a table from noon on. And since I didn’t know what to buy for your birthday, I figured this would make a good present.”

“It’s the best, actually,” Harry said and smiled now. He should have known Louis would come up with something sweet. It was just who Louis was. He wouldn’t go and buy something, just to have anything to give to Harry. He would actually think about it and figure something that Harry had a use of. And this really was the best Louis could have come up with. “There’s nothing I want more right now than my bed.”

“And that’s where we’ll take you!” Louis announced. He then bit his lip and gave Harry a quick grin. “Or, well, not too literally. But, you get the point.”

“Point taken,” Harry answered and smiled. He felt his eyelids droop heavily and leaned his head against the window.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Louis warned. “I won’t carry you upstairs.”

“Would be a first for the princess to carry the servant,” Harry mumbled.

Louis laughed and reached over to squeeze Harry’s knee. The touch was warm and pulled him back from where he had drifted off to. Louis kept his hand on Harry’s knee and Harry didn’t comment on that. It felt rather nice. “I am serious here. It’s just five minutes. Tell me about your night. Has anyone sent birthday messages yet?”

“Liam,” Harry answered. “He called at midnight. Talked to Zayn, too. And Nick sent a message and Niall sent me a funny picture.” He ran a hand through his hair, messed it up, pushed it back, before he pulled the beanie back over the mess. “Work was okay. A few of my colleagues knew and they had a cake. I ate too much of it during my break and feel a little sick now.”

“You love it,” Louis pointed out.

“Absolutely.”

“I’m upset you didn’t save any of it for me. I love cake,” Louis complained.

“Nothing was left.” Harry shrugged. “Also, Niall’s getting on my nerves about those Cake Pops that I am not sure I’ll be able to make, since I don’t know if I’ll get a Cake Pops baker. But should I get one, you will have to help me out tomorrow making them.”

“I’m not sure you just got what I said. I want to eat cake, not bake it.” Louis pulled into a free parking lot at the side of the street. “I am rubbish in the kitchen. You don’t really want me to help.”

Harry smirked, as he got out of the car. “Oh yes, I do.”

Pulling a face, Louis went ahead and held the door for Harry, before they went upstairs. Louis fumbled with the keys in front of their door and Harry swayed slightly behind him, trying not to fall asleep in the corridor. He leaned against the wall and his eyelids dropped.

A warm hand curled around his and dragged and Harry groaned slightly, as he moved and followed the drag into their flat. Louis unzipped his jacket and pulled the beanie from Harry’s curls and Harry opened his eyes slightly to look at him, just in time to see him pulling his own beanie from his hair.

On instinct, Harry reached out and ran his hand over Louis hair to bring it back into order, flattened the fringe over Louis’ forehead. Louis looked a little surprised, but didn’t say anything and didn’t flinch. He let Harry have his mind and reached for him again to lead him to his bedroom.

“You’re a proper mess,” Louis commented, as he opened the door and Harry looked around in confusion. His room was tidy and he only then realised that Louis hadn’t talked about his room, but the state he was in.

“Fucking tired,” Harry answered lowly.

Louis smiled at him and pushed back the duvet on the bed, gesturing for Harry to get in. Harry followed obediently and made his way to the bed, stripping off his shirt in the process and kicking off his trousers. He saw Louis sternly looking at the floor, but was too tired to give him shit for that.

Harry crawled beneath the duvet and looked up at Louis who still stood next to the bed. “Wanna join me?”

“What?” Louis asked.

“Still freezing,” Harry answered. “You could warm me up a little.”

Louis kept looking at him, his expression unchanged and Harry wasn’t sure what exactly it was. Something between pure horror and stunned disbelief. “It’s my birthday,” was the only argument he could come up with.

Louis’ face broke into a soft fondness. “I’m really not too sure who’s the actual princess here,” he said, unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them off, before he slid into bed next to Harry.

“It’s my birthday, I can demand whatever I want.” Harry shifted closer and tangled his legs with Louis’, nuzzled his face against his neck. “And I think I deserve some proper cuddling on my birthday.”

He felt Louis’ lips smile against his temple and his breath was warm, as he answered, “that’s the exchange for baking tomorrow. If I cuddle you now, I won’t have to help.”

Harry groaned and shut his eyes, felt himself sink into sleep. “Not letting you off the hook.”

If Louis argued —- and Harry was sure Louis did —- he didn’t hear it anymore. Louis’ warmth wrapped around him, his hands were stroking along Harry’s back and his lips were softly moving over the skin of his temple.

It had been so long, since Harry had fallen asleep like this, with someone holding him, a warm body next to his.

He had almost forgotten how nice it actually was.

 

+++

 

Louis ended up helping Harry bake anyway. 

Harry told him exactly what to do and while Louis sprinkled yellow and pink sugar sprinkles on top of the Cake Pops Harry had just coated in chocolate, he thought that it was the girliest thing he had done in his life.

“You bring out the girl in me,” he commented dryly.

Harry laughed and threw him a glance. “Says the boy who told me just a few days ago, he’d be Mulan, if he could be any Disney princess.”

“She’s the bravest,” Louis said and stuck some pink sugar hearts into the chocolate. “And the one who’s less girly of all of them.”

“And there’s nothing about you that’s remotely Asian.” Harry covered the last round cake ball in melted chocolate, before he put it next to the others.

“It’s not the point. We’re talking about character, not looks.”

“In that case you’d be Meg,” Harry pointed out to him and chuckled.

“What?”

“Meg. The one from Hercules.” Harry cleaned off his hands and watched Louis put some sprinkles on his own hands. “That would be you. Character and look wise.”

“Well, you say I don’t look Asian, but I reckon there’s nothing Greek about me, either.” Louis wrinkled his nose.

“We’ll watch it next time. Then, you will have to admit you’re Meg.”

“We’ll see.” Louis pulled a face and decorated the last one, before he leaned back and lifted his hands. “Done. Never again!”

Harry grinned and checked his watch. “I’m gonna take a shower. Liam and Zayn will be here in a bit.”

Louis watched him leave the kitchen and stayed back, colourful Cake Pops in front of him and a right mess of sticky cake dough, sugar and used kitchen ware around him.

This was going better than Louis had expected. He had thought things between him and Harry would get awkward after last morning. Instead, when Harry’s alarm had gone off, Louis had woken up with an arm full of Harry, curls tickling his cheek and big hands on his waist.

Harry had just rolled out of bed, mumbling his sleepy “good morning”, before he had disappeared to the bathroom. And even in the kitchen, when they had both had a cup of tea before leaving, nothing had turned awkward.

Quite the opposite, actually, Louis thought now. Touches came easier, without hesitation and they didn’t need to talk about it. Just like anything else between them, it had just developed naturally in that direction.

Louis liked it, liked how they had fallen asleep on the couch together last night, long after midnight. Harry had thrown his legs over Louis’ thighs and eventually, they had cuddled up, watching a movie, before Louis had drifted off to sleep. Harry had woken him around four and they had wordlessly made their way to Louis’s bedroom. There hadn’t even been a question; Harry had just sneaked into Louis’ bed and Louis couldn’t say he minded it at all.

But, above all that, Louis didn’t fail to remind himself that it didn’t mean a thing. He had seen Harry around Liam and Zayn. He was naturally touchy with people close to him. And by now, he and Louis were close, so there was nothing odd about Harry treating Louis the way he treated his other close friends.

And Harry’s birthday party just confirmed Louis in that belief. Of course, Harry was the centre of attention; after all, he was the birthday boy. But, everyone hugging him, pulling him close and giving him loving kisses on his cheeks and forehead and hair didn’t seem like anything they had reserved for today.

And Harry didn’t seem to mind. He loved the attention and he loved being loved. Louis could see it in his face, in his small smiles and bright laughter and happy looks. The way Harry leaned into every touch and every caress made it painfully obvious to Louis that whatever they shared wasn’t anything special.

It was just how Harry Styles was with his friends.

“Did you invite any of the lads?” Niall asked from next to him, as he sat in the kitchen, a bottle of beer in his hands and a group of strangers around him. Harry was in the living room and Louis had lost track of where Zayn and Liam had disappeared to. Niall had been in the living room, too, but had come in to grab another beer.

Louis shrugged. “Aiden and Matt,” he answered. “They might come when Aiden’s shift is over. Weren’t too sure. And Greg said he’d drop by.”

Niall grinned. “I haven’t seen any of them in a while. Will be nice to catch up with them.”

“If you’re still sober by the time they show up.”

“Come on,” Niall said and gripped Louis’ wrist. “Sitting here all by yourself in the kitchen, sulking. That’s not like you.”

“I’m not sulking,” Louis protested.

“Yeah, sure. Usually you’d have everyone charmed at this point.” Niall dragged him up and out of the kitchen and Louis wanted to turn right back and leave, when he saw Harry on the sofa, a bloke next to him, speaking into Harry’s ear and a girl sat in his lap, Harry’s hand loosely on her waist.

Who was Harry even to do anything like that? How could he give a bloke a smirk that promised nothing but sex, while he had a girl on his lap and his hands on her hips?

What the fuck did Harry do to him? Louis wanted to scream. And being slightly tipsy didn’t make it any better. He definitely wouldn’t hold back, if anyone made the mistake to provoke him.

Niall sat down on the floor and Louis wordlessly placed himself next to him, let the conversation flood his mind.

“I could have gotten a stripper for you,” the bloke next to Harry said and everyone else laughed. “Dressed up as a nurse.”

Harry lifted a brow and flashed a grin at the blonde sitting in his lap. “You think I’d have liked that?”

“You’d have hated it,” he got as an answer. “That’s why I would have done it.”

“I might get someone to strip for me tonight,” Harry teased. “But, like, privately and without any of you guys watching. And no one to witness what will happen afterwards.”

A round of wolf whistles was heard and Louis raised a brow, feeling awfully sick at that imagination alone. He had always been good with sharing —- he had four sisters, after all and nothing had ever been his alone. But, there were a few things that Louis really didn’t like sharing. One of them was the person he shared a bed with at night.

And, coincidentally, Harry was the person who shared his bed these days. Or rather, nights. Louis frowned deeper.

“Who do you have in mind, then?” the bloke asked.

“Getting your hopes up, Nick?”

“I always have my hopes up with you, Styles,” Nick answered and Louis gave him a closer look. His hair looked like a copy of Harry’s and he was at least five years older. But not less a hipster than Harry was. He seemed awfully close to Harry —- banter like the one they shared just now, seemed just too naturally coming.

“He might prefer a girl tonight,” the blonde threw in and Louis felt his stomach twist, his eyes closely observing Harry’s reaction.

Harry smiled warmly and squeezed her hips. “I might.”

“He might want both,” Louis threw in, tone thick and dry and layered with all the agony he felt in that moment.

Everyone else in the room drew their attention to him and he saw Harry’s eyes go wide for a second, before his expression turned back into the relaxed one he had worn before.

“And you are?” Nick asked.

“Louis,” Harry answered. “That’s Louis.”

“Oh,” Nick made and his face lit up with recognition. “So, you are Louis.”

“The one and only,” Louis answered, without letting show how confused he was that Harry had obviously told his friends about him.

“Harry’s been talking about you so much, ever since you moved in.” Nick gave him a look-over and smirked. “And I do see why.”

Louis raised a brow and moved his bottle in his hands. “I am afraid I can’t say the same about you? Haven’t heard anything about you yet.”

Nick laughed. “He is a good kid,” he said to Harry and Harry gave him a fond smile, as if to say, _told you so_. Nick turned back to Louis, winking. “I’m Nick, not worth to be mentioned, apparently.”

“There must be reasons for that.” Louis grinned wittily and got a poke to his side from Niall.

“Plenty,” Nick answered.

“Hey, um, Louis,” Liam said from the door and Louis turned to him. Liam didn’t have to say anything else, as Louis saw Greg standing right behind him.

“Greg,” Louis exclaimed and got up, rushing over and getting on his tip-toes to give him a quick hug. “Good you could make it!”

Greg smiled at him, shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Good to see you, Lou.”

Louis kept his hand on Greg’s back, as he turned. “That’s Greg, a friend from uni,” he introduced him.

“Who’s the birthday boy?” Greg asked, giving Louis a shy look. Louis pointed at Harry and Greg crossed the room, extended his hand. “Happy birthday and, well, nice to meet you,” he said, before he handed Harry a small package. “Nothing fancy.”

“Thanks,” Harry said with a smile. It oddly contradicted the frown on his face. “And, don’t I know you?”

Nick nudged Harry’s side. “You know his voice. He’s doing the campus radio. Aren’t you?” he directed his question at Greg then.

Greg nodded. “Yeah, been doing that for a while now.”

“I did it, too,” Nick said. “Ages ago. You’re doing a good job. I often listen.”

“Thanks, man.”

“We’ll get you a drink, Greg, come on,” Louis said and dragged him out of the room and to the kitchen. “Matt and Aiden said they’d might come, too. I’m really glad you showed up. I was left alone here with all of Harry’s hipster friends.”

“You didn’t look to uncomfortable in there,” Greg stated.

“Right?” Louis handed him a beer. “They love me.”

“I’m not too sure,” Greg said and laughed. “They are hipsters and you’re anything but. They might think of you as weird.”

“Those people in there really have no right to call anyone weird,” Louis pointed out and opened another bottle for himself, before they made their way back into the living room.

 

+++

 

Harry frowned at the sight in front of him. Nick was talking to his right and Zayn and Liam sat next to him on his left, talking to a few friends of his. Niall sat in an arm chair and had started playing the guitar and everyone just really enjoyed themselves.

Except, Harry wasn’t so sure he enjoyed what was happening.

Louis sat with his back against the wall next to the TV screen and was talking to Greg. Greg who had his body turned to Louis and who was so freaking tall, taller than Harry, and made Louis look even tinier than he already was. Greg who placed his hand on Louis’ knee, when he made him laugh and who looked at him fondly, when Louis talked.

“He has a crush on your new flatmate,” Nick pointed out to Harry and Harry tore his eyes from the view to him.

“Yeah, maybe,” he answered lamely. Because, really, what else could he say?

“He has a nice bum, I have to say,” Nick added. “Your Louis.”

“‘S not _my Louis_ ,” Harry hissed. “But, yeah. I noticed.”

“Greg did, too. I’d say.”

“Nick, what’s that about? Honestly, I am not into Louis, I don’t care who he flirts with.” Harry picked up his glass from the table and emptied it in one go. “That’s just hilarious to even think.”

“Well,” Liam piped in from next to him. “Your look just now clearly said different.”

Harry turned to him and pouted his lips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Not your cup of tea, remember?” Liam asked. “You grew awfully fond of him, though.”

“You like him, too,” Harry pointed out.

“Yeah, sure I do. He’s a good lad.” Liam shrugged. “He’s a mate. Like you and Niall.”

“But nothing like Zayn,” Nick added.

“Obviously.” Harry frowned at him.

“I’d be alarmed, if you’d look at Zayn the way you look at Louis, though,” Liam said. “You don’t really look like he was just a mate.”

“Bullocks,” Harry said and got up to get to the kitchen and grab another drink. Maybe something stronger now. Most of the people had left already and only the bunch of people in the living room were left, so the kitchen was empty. Harry looked at the plate with Cake Pops he had made together with Louis and sighed, before he poured some vodka into his glass and added cranberry juice.

Liam was wrong. Harry didn’t see anything in Louis but a good friend. They did get along well and had good chemistry, Harry wouldn’t deny that. But there was no sexual attraction in there. Nothing, zero.

Louis was not Harry’s type.

He looked up, as he heard the voices approaching and saw Louis come into the kitchen, followed by Greg. Greg who had his hand casually placed on Louis’ hip, Harry thought and clenched his jaw. Louis giggled, not so steady on his feet anymore, eyes bright with laughter, crinkled, when he smiled and with tiny hands against Greg’s big ones and his small tummy beneath the thin t-shirt he wore and that _bum_.

“Oh,” Louis said, as he spotted Harry. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Harry answered.

“Look, Greg,” Louis said and pointed at the few Cake Pops that were left. “I helped Harry making them.”

“Girly,” Greg judged them and grinned, as Louis gave him a mockingly shocked look.

“That’s why I saved you the one with pink hearts.” Louis took said one and handed it to Greg. “I put some extra effort for that one.”

Harry rolled his eyes and decided to empty his glass right here and take another refill back to the living room. He tilted his head back and let the vodka-cranberry rush through his mouth, right down his throat. He put the glass to the counter and suddenly, the room around him began spinning.

“You’re okay, Harry?” Greg asked.

Harry looked at him and shrugged. He didn’t feel all that well anymore. Louis made him sick. Harry was almost certain that it was all Louis’ fault. Why did he come here to flirt with Greg in front of Harry?

“I…” He stumbled against the fridge and it was only a second that he lost his balance, before he felt a warm body sliding against his side, steadying him. A warm palm pressed against his stomach, short, small fingers spread over the fabric of his shirt, while another hand lay at the small of his back.

“Louis,” Harry murmured and leaned against him. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck,” Louis agreed. “And you just drowned another glass, idiot. You won’t feel better anytime soon.”

“Just a bit dizzy,” Harry said and he heard how his voice was slurred himself. God, no, he really couldn’t handle getting sick in front of Louis. And he really had to stop thinking about Louis all the time. The alcohol did strange things to his brain, because suddenly, everything he wanted to think about was Louis. And Louis was right here, holding him, which didn’t make it any easier.

“Greg, can you get Liam, please?” Louis asked and Harry heard him say, “sure”, before he left the room.

“Come here,” Louis murmured and pulled Harry into a tight embrace. He leaned against the fridge, so Harry could slump against him. Harry sighed heavily and he wasn’t really sure if it was the alcohol that made him feel so sick so suddenly.

Probably the way Louis had been with Greg had been the cause. And Harry really didn’t want to think about that. What if Liam had been right? Harry tried to steady his breathing and held on to Louis, digging his fingers into Louis’ sides.

“What’s wrong?” he heard Zayn’s voice then.

Louis shrugged. “He suddenly went all pale and lost his balance. Probably too much to drink.”

Another pair of hands came to get hold of Harry’s waist, and Harry knew it was Liam.

“Haz, you’re alright?”

Harry nodded against Louis’ shoulder. “Yeah, just… a few drinks too many.”

“You should lie down, maybe,” Liam advised and tugged at his arm.

Harry nodded, but shifted closer to Louis.

“I’ll take him to bed,” Louis said. “You guys can stay as long as you want. Or, I don’t know, Niall, if you want to stay the night, you can crash at my room.”

“Yeah, sure,” Niall said. “Will do that.”

“Okay, Hazza,” Louis said and Harry felt his heart skip a beat and, fuck, why hadn’t he realised earlier that Louis could do that to him? He was crushing on Louis and Harry couldn’t even understand _why_. “I’ll take you to bed.”

“Not my type,” he mumbled.

“Believe me, even if I was, you’re not in shape to do that right now,” Louis said in a light tone and Harry honestly wished he was at least in shape to kick him for that answer. Why was Louis so light-hearted about that? Why couldn’t he be as miserable as Harry?

Louis kept sticking to his side, as he led him to Harry’s bedroom and Liam and Zayn were right next to him. They helped him onto his bed and Liam unbuttoned Harry’s shirt, helped him out of it, before he and Louis pulled off his jeans.

“God, how do you even get into these skinny jeans?” Louis complained, as they had them off.

Harry managed a slight grin, as he stared up at the ceiling that was spinning above him. “I’m bendy.”

“Images,” Zayn said dryly from the door, as he came back in and put a bucket next to the bed.

“Won’t have to throw up,” Harry murmured, as Louis sat down on the bed and ran a hand over his hair.

“Niall,” he said, as he slid next to Harry beneath the duvet, “can you take care of Greg? He doesn’t know anyone and well…” Harry swallowed hearing those words and shifted closer, pulling Louis in. Why was Louis _still_ thinking about Greg right now?

“It’s alright,” Liam said, before Niall could answer. “We’ll take care of him.”

“Thanks,” Louis answered, as he folded Harry into his arms.

“You okay, Harry?” Liam asked, as he walked over to the door.

“Just need some sleep,” Harry answered. “Sorry, lads.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Niall assured him. “You’ll learn how to drink properly, youngster.”

“Fuck you,” Harry groaned and felt Louis’ silent laughter against his chest.

They closed the door and silence and darkness wrapped around him and Louis. Harry ran his tongue over his lips and he already felt a lot better, still a little dizzy, but not sick anymore. It hadn’t been that bad, actually and he knew what he had just done.

He had probably played this up a little to distract Louis from Greg and make him focus on Harry. But, in the end, Louis had decided to stay with him rather than with Greg. And Harry couldn’t help but think that it was all that mattered.

“Sorry,” he said silently.

“Hm?” Louis moved his hand from Harry’s nape into his hair.

“For ending your night early, too.”

Louis laughed quietly. “It’s fine. Nothing to be sorry about. It’s your party.”

“But, like…” Harry swallowed thickly. “About Greg.”

“What about him? He’s not fifteen, Haz. And Niall’s just as good a company for him as I am.”

Oh God, Harry thought and he closed his eyes. Louis didn’t even know. He hadn’t even noticed how Greg looked at him and handled him.

“Yeah, alright,” he just said.

“Get some sleep, love,” Louis murmured. “And try not to throw up on me.”

“Won’t have to throw up,” Harry repeated and nuzzled closer into Louis’ warmth.

Silence stretched between them, then Harry whispered, “thanks, Lou.”

“I’m the best flatmate ever,” Louis agreed lightly.

“Yeah, you are.”

And the world kept spinning and flipping upside-down, when Harry closed his eyes, but it wasn’t all that bad anymore. Because, Louis was right there, steady and firm to hold on to.

Right now, it was all that mattered. In this moment, it was all Harry needed —- knowing that Louis had decided for him.

There was no room for regrets, not now.

He’d have time to regret tomorrow.

 

+++

 

Louis woke up with Harry glued to his back. Somehow, over night, they had changed positions and it was Harry who held him now. One arm was flung over Louis’ waist, the other under his head, serving as a pillow. Harry’s face was close to his nape, Louis could feel his breath ghosting over his skin.

And damn, Harry’s body felt nice. He could wrap Louis up completely —- there wasn’t a single inch of him that wasn’t touching Harry and Louis wanted to stay like this forever.

Staying like this, however, was complete self-destruction.

Quietly and careful not to wake Harry, Louis slid out of bed and left the room on his tip-toes. He made his way to the bathroom first for a quick wee and painkillers for his headache, before he checked the living room.

There was a right mess left and Louis really didn’t want to even think about having to clean it. Much more interesting was Niall sleeping on their sofa. He had gathered all cushions from the sofa and the arm chair and had thrown a woollen blanket over himself. Louis frowned and shuffled over to his bedroom, opened the door quietly and peeked inside.

Zayn and Liam lay in his bed, curled up and cuddled up under his duvet. Their faces lay close and it was, once again, sickening to watch.

“Are you serious?” Louis asked and Liam startled in his sleep, his eyes opened slowly, before he sat up to look at Louis. Zayn shifted closer, buried his face at Liam’s side.

“Morning, Louis,” Liam greeted him.

“You are aware that your flat is just a floor below, aren’t you?”

Liam smiled slightly. “Of course. How is Harry?”

Louis snorted out a laugh. “You stayed, because you were worried for Harry?”

“It’s not like him to get sick like that,” Liam just said. Zayn groaned next to him and threw an arm over Liam’s stomach, pulling him closer.

“Don’t even attempt that, Zayn,” Louis warned. “I really hope you guys didn’t get anything on tonight.”

Liam rolled his eyes, his hand absently running over Zayn’s hair. He slid away then, leaving Zayn to sleep. Zayn shifted closer to the warm spot Liam had left behind and Liam followed Louis outside the room, both of them wearing briefs and t-shirts. Louis thought that it took their friendship to a new level.

That, and the fact that Liam and Zayn had probably had sex in his bed. That took their friendship to a completely new level. Out spaced, maybe.

“So, you didn’t tell me how Harry is doing.”

Louis put on the kettle and got out his tea collection. “Fine, I guess. He slept through, as far as I can tell and he’s still sleeping now.”

Liam had a funny look on his face, but Louis didn’t ask. “We just wanted to make sure we were around, in case he needed us.”

Raising a brow, Louis prepared five cups. “Okay, be frank, because Harry wouldn’t tell me. Does he call you Mummy and Zayn Daddy?”

A cheerful laughter bubbled from Liam’s throat and he shook his head. “Why would he?”

“You guys act as if he was your precious little daughter.”

“He’s just…” Liam shrugged. “He was all by himself, when I met him first.”

“How did you?” Louis sat down, when Liam gave him an asking look. “Get to know him, is what I mean.”

“The job at the club,” Liam answered. “I still worked there, when he started and it turned out he lived here, just a floor upstairs from us. So, I kind of started walking home with him and we became friends.”

Louis hummed an answer. “Wanting to take care of him seems to be a natural reaction to Harry, I suppose.”

Liam smiled. “You seem to care a lot.”

Louis felt a blush creep up his neck. “He seems to want to be taken care of.”

“True,” Liam agreed. “I’m happy you moved in, Louis. You guys became good mates and I think living alone isn’t really good for Harry. He needs the company.”

“Maybe, yes.” Louis got up and gripped the kettle to fill their cups. He handed one to Liam afterwards.

“So,” Liam said, as Louis sat again. “Be honest with me.”

Louis felt his stomach drop. He knew he had been too obvious with Harry. Fuck, Liam would tell Zayn and Zayn would probably kill him. Or, he wouldn’t sit with Louis in class anymore. What was probably just as bad.

“Why would you think I’d take the Mummy part?”

For a second, Louis couldn’t say anything. Then, he started laughing. “Really? You’re so much of a hen!”

Liam pouted his lips, wrinkled his nose. “You got it all wrong. Naturally, Zayn’s taking the Mummy part. I’m much more of a Daddy. Zayn’s such a girl.”

“Didn’t ask for who tops in bed,” Louis clarified, his tone dry. “Too much information, Liam.”

Liam laughed and sipped his tea. “You asked for it!”

Louis laughed with him and their light banter went on like that. He didn’t think he was off the hook —- Liam had definitely noticed what was going on; he must have. But he didn’t say anything about it and oddly enough, he seemed to be fine with it.

It was strangely comforting to sit with Liam on an early Saturday morning, drinking tea, waiting for the rest of them to wake up and talk about the last night, sports and friends.

Niall came into the kitchen almost an hour later and he and Liam prepared breakfast together, when Harry came in, too. He held his head, but looked a lot better already.

Louis handed him painkillers and a glass of water and let him sit down. He still just wore his underwear and Louis noticed that none of the others seemed to care. Why was it so distracting to him? Louis had felt this skin on his own and had touched Harry countless times by now. But the sight still made him feel uncomfortable. He wanted to reach out and explore every single inch of skin, every bit of Harry’s body. And not only with his hands.

He had touched Harry, had had his skin on his own, but the problem, Louis thought, was probably that it hadn’t all been in the way he wanted it to be. He wanted to touch Harry and make him sigh, moan and whisper Louis’ name in pleasure. He wanted him to blush and arch to Louis’ touch and—-

“Louis?”

He snapped out of his thoughts and swallowed thickly, stared at Niall. Harry looked at him, too and Liam wasn’t in the kitchen anymore. Where was Liam?

“We’re having breakfast in the living room,” Niall said and went ahead.

Louis stared after him, before he looked back at Harry, as he put a hand on Louis’ thigh. Harry smiled at him slightly, his curls ruffled, his cheeks looking warm and soft, dimples showing. His eyes were bright green and probably a little too bright for a hangover.

“Are you feeling better?” Louis asked.

Harry nodded. “Yeah. Thanks again.”

“No problem,” Louis answered and his tone was tight. God, he couldn’t handle this right now. Harry’s hand there on his thigh made him weak and turned him on so much more than it should. He quickly stood up. “I’ll go put on some joggers.”

He fled into his bedroom, where Liam had just dragged Zayn out of bed and they shared a light kiss.

“Please tell me I won’t have to burn my bed,” Louis whined.

Zayn giggled and pulled Liam into his arms. “Burning the sheets will probably do.”

Louis grabbed some joggers and sighed.

“I hate you all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! ♥


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid this took way too long and I am sorry for making you guys wait! (If there even was anyone waiting for this to continue)  
> Anyway, it's gotten so long and I still couldn't finish it. Thus, there'll be a fourth part. I promise it won't take that long again! :) 
> 
> Also, many, many thanks to the awesome [zarah5](http://archiveofourown.org/users/zarah5/pseuds/zarah5) for reading this over for me. Thank you so much for taking your time, I do appreciate it a lot! 
> 
> Enjoy! ♥

"Okay. So this is rather easy," Louis said and everyone else fell silent.

They were sitting in Liam and Zayn's living room and waited for their pizza to be delivered. It was a Monday night and all of them had no classes before twelve the next day, that's why they had started to make Monday their movie night.

However, each week again, they would fight which movie to watch.

Niall was lying on the floor, a bottle of beer in his hand, as well as a bowl of crisps next to him. Liam and Zayn were sitting together in an armchair and Zayn was draped over Liam, his head on his boyfriend's shoulder. He was also the most passive one, and Louis suspected him of falling asleep throughout the discussion -- several times. Liam loosely held him, hand absently running up and down Zayn's side.

Harry sat next to Louis on the sofa and Louis could feel him in his space. Their arms brushed, and they had their legs casually tangled. Harry looked rather comfortable that way and his eyes were fixed on Louis now, a curious shine to them.

Louis still wanted to kiss him all the time. And he wanted to run his hands down that chest to those hips and pull him in, impossibly close to Louis. However, Harry seemed all casual about them like this and all of the other boys seemed so unbothered that Louis suppressed his needs and wants and fucking desire to seem just as casual and unbothered.

It wasn't always easy. Actually, it wasn't easy for a single second. But who was he to complain?

"Obviously," he said now and tore his eyes from Harry's red lips -- and was he wearing lip gloss or something for his lips to always look this shiny and glossy and just full and _ripe_? Louis really had to stop thinking about it. "Zayn's the one to decide."

"Zayn?" Niall sat up and gave Louis a disbelieving look.

Zayn himself didn't really react. Only, when Liam nudged him, did he lift his head and gave them a confused look.

"Why Zayn?" Harry asked, as well.

"Because Zayny-Zayn here, is the only one who really doesn't care what's on. So he is the one to just pick any of the movies."

"That's not fair," Niall told him immediately. "He'll obviously pick Liam's."

"Obviously," Zayn repeated in a small voice and dropped his head back to Liam's shoulder.

Liam rolled his eyes. "He won't pick mine. Especially not after you brought it up now."

"Zayn's going to fall asleep anyway," Louis said. "So he won't even hear the complaints."

Harry actually seemed to consider and Niall had fallen silent, too. Louis caught Zayn and Liam from the corner of his eye and couldn't help but turn to look at them. Liam ran a hand over Zayn's cheek.

"Why don't you go to bed, love?" Liam asked quietly.

Zayn shook his head, nuzzled closer. "Wanna stay with you."

Liam simply smiled and pressed his lips to Zayn's forehead.

Louis made gagging noises, earning an indignant look from Liam and Harry alike.

By now, he knew he could do that and that they wouldn't resent him. They knew how to take it and could deal with it rather well. And Louis didn't _really_ hate it or found it gross or anything. They were so adorable together and it was adorable in a way that puppies and kittens were just adorable and lovable that Louis didn't even have a choice, but to make fun of it. He couldn't ever admit to how lovely the sight of them was and how much Louis envied them for what they had.

The good thing about it was that Liam and Zayn knew it, too.

"Okay," Harry said and shifted closer to Louis, distracted him with a simple touch to his arm. "Zayn's the one to decide."

Louis looked to Liam and got an approving nod and then, Niall shrugged, giving his approval, too.

"Cool," Zayn pointed out and grinned at them, his eyes half-lidded and looking impossibly tired. He had had classes early in the morning and had just come back from his part-time job at a bookstore half an hour ago. "Harry's."

Louis and Niall both got raged up over that answer.

"Harry's?" Niall repeated in a shrill voice.

"You're just using every chance to take the piss out of us, don't you?" Louis's question overlapped Niall's exclamation.

"That reaction is completely uncalled for," Harry piped in and got up, entangling himself from Louis to set up the telly. "He chose the best movie."

" _The Proposal_ , Harry?" Louis shook his head. "Seriously?"

"It's a shame you haven't even seen it once," Harry countered. "Or else you would know just how great it is."

Liam laughed. "Better get used to it, Louis. Harry's favourite movies range from romantic comedy to ... well, comedy, I guess."

"That includes Disney movies," Niall added.

"And the occasional foreign movie," even Zayn piped in. "From French arts movies no one understood the meaning of to Japanese children's cartoons."

"Those are called anime, Zayn," Harry told him and rolled his eyes. "And I study languages. You probably heard before."

"That's why you have to watch foreign movies?"

"To at least hear the language." Harry shrugged and plopped down next to Louis again. "It helps."

"Do you actually speak those languages then?" Louis gave him a stunned look. "I thought you just study language in general, but don't specifically learn any of them."

"Language is pretty interesting. Like, every language has a different concept and different rules and yet, there are quite a few similarities to how language in general works, no matter which part of the world."

Louis shouldn't be so intrigued about it. But he had images in mind; images of Harry beneath him, murmuring in another language, while Louis worked on him. Louis had always thought of French as a sexy language.

"Do you speak French?" he promptly asked. Hopefully, none of the others would guess what his interest was about.

Harry shook his head.

"Why watching the stuff, if you don't even understand, what they say?" Louis tried not to show his disappointment. So, no French mumblings and murmurs, when he'd have sex with Harry. If, Louis reminded himself. If he should ever have sex with Harry.

It all didn't seem too likely these days.

"Ever heard of subtitles?"

Well, Louis couldn't be sure, but maybe, any language would do. "How about Japanese, then?"

Harry grinned. "Ganbarimasu!"

Louis frowned and looked at the others, who all just shrugged and when the doorbell rang, he quickly got up. "I'll get that."

Later, they watched the movie and Niall joined them on the couch. They fought over pizza and Niall and Liam ended up in a discussion why exactly either of them deserved the last slice, making up tales about their tough lives.

"This is not _Notting Hill_ , idiots," Harry told them and sneaked it out of the box, before any of them could react. Only Harry would make an analogy to some cheesy Hollywood movie. But, well, Louis had to admit that his mind had made the connection, too, when Niall and Liam had started unpacking some very soppy stories.

And, really, Louis lived with the boy he had a huge crush on and he even shared a bed with said boy, without actually having sex him. He didn't think any of their stories could top that. It was the most pathetic thing ever.

Harry finished his slice of pizza, while Niall complained in an endless string of curses. Unbothered, Harry handed him the bowl of crisps and smiled sweetly and it soothed Louis' nerves to see that Harry had that effect on other people, too. Niall fell silent and settled back against the backrest of the sofa.

Harry flung his legs back onto the couch and put them over Louis' knees, before he leaned with his back against Niall. Niall shifted and wound an arm around his shoulders, pulling Harry against his chest.

Louis tried to concentrate on the movie.

But, fuck, that movie was so lame and just predictable, it wasn't a good distraction, at all. He wanted to look back over at Harry and Niall all the time, it was like there was a magnet in Harry's face that attracted Louis' eyes.

And, in all honesty, what was Harry thinking again? Why, for God's sake, did he cuddle up to Niall, when Louis was right there next to him? Why did Louis get his damn feet, while Niall got to hold Harry against his chest? What was wrong with him? Had he already grown tired of Louis?  
Oh God, he really had to stop thinking like a 14-year-old school girl. But he couldn't handle it; Louis just really couldn't handle the phenomenon that was Harry Styles.

Staring at the screen, Louis started tapping his fingers against Harry's shin. He glanced over at Liam and Zayn and saw Zayn had long fallen asleep, curled up against Liam. And Liam was watching the movie, as if he really was interested. He had to be kidding.

Niall, however, was actually watching, too, Louis had to find, when he turned his head back to his left. The only one who wasn't looking at the screen was Harry (apart from Zayn, for obvious reasons). His eyes were fixed on Louis.

Louis stopped the tapping and Harry smirked, the dimple in his left cheek showing. He moved his feet against Louis' thighs and then, suddenly, turned his head, tilted it back to rub his nose against Niall's chin. Niall just quickly glanced at him, a gentle smile on his lips, as he squeezed Harry's shoulder.

Niall, the bastard. Louis clenched his teeth and sternly stared back at the screen.

No, he decided then and sagged deeper into the cushions of the sofa.

Harry was the actual bastard.

+++

For some odd reasons, Harry’s plans never really worked out. It never was his fault; not really, at least. Today, his plans hadn't quite worked out for several reasons and he really didn't have any clue how things had ended up the way they were now.

Throwing off his plans in the best way possible, had been Zayn, announcing that he and Liam had adopted a dog.

At first, Harry had been sure Zayn was kidding. When he had accompanied Zayn back home, he had found that Zayn, in fact, had not been kidding for a second.

Liam had greeted them with a troubled expression, his cheeks a little red, slightly out of breath, but with a hairy puppy in his arms and eyes shining as bright as a kid's on Christmas morning. And Harry was sure that was the only appropriate comparison in this case.

Of course it had been Liam's idea. He had always wanted a dog.

"Zayn told me yesterday that a friend of a friend of his had one left that no one wanted to take," he had told Harry.

"I knew in that moment that we would take it," Zayn had added. "Liam's always wanted a dog and I knew if I told him about it, there was no way he wouldn't talk me into taking it."

And now, Zayn and Liam had a puppy. A Jack Russell Terrier by the name Woodstock.

To Harry's misfortune, however, that had meant Zayn and Liam couldn't come along to the night out Harry had planned for Saturday. He had had the idea on Thursday and when Harry had suggested it over lunch, Liam, Zayn and Niall had immediately agreed. Louis had not been as easy, but eventually, he had given in. 

Harry had no idea why Louis had been hesitant about it in the first place. 

Anyway, with Liam and Zayn playing Daddies for a dog, it was only him, Louis and Niall left. Which had been totally fine up to the moment Niall had passed out on his couch. They had met up in Niall's flat for drinks, before heading out and Niall had fallen asleep even before midnight. Any attempt to wake him had been in vain.

So, by now, it was only Louis and Harry left and that was the only scenario that really didn't work with the plan Harry had initially made. Being out in a club alone with Louis was basically everything Harry had never planned or even _wanted_. 

Harry's initial plan had been to get laid tonight.

That hadn't changed, but being out with only Louis made it a little awkward. He had hoped he could pick up a nice bloke, make out with him and have Louis see and grasp the situation, so Louis would ask Liam and Zayn or Niall to stay at either of their flats for the night.

Harry was convinced that all he needed was some good sex to distract himself from Louis. The thing was, Harry was constantly thinking about sex with Louis around and it was unbearable. It certainly wasn't because he was so attracted to Louis, even if there was some odd attraction, that crush Harry had developed. But Harry hadn't had sex in a long while and having Louis constantly around, was a not-so-friendly reminder. He wasn’t Harry’s type; too tiny, too witty, and with his curves and messy hair in the mornings. Harry was just _needy_ and Louis was always _there_. 

It was a just a natural reaction.

Tough luck to have Louis witness him getting laid tonight, if things ended the way Harry wanted them to end. But, really, there was nothing he could do about it. Of course, the thought had crossed his mind that he could just have someone take him back to their home, but Harry really didn't like being the one who had to leave in the morning after a one night stand. He preferred waking up in his own bed with the person he had sex with only a faint memory and a distant scent on his sheets.

He wouldn't turn back on his plans.

If his plans ever did not work out the way he wanted them to, he had to adjust them to whatever situation was given. Harry could be flexible.

Flexible, he thought, a grin spreading across his face.

"Whatever dirty thought just crossed your mind, I'd rather not know," Louis said next to him.

They stood at the bar, both of them a glass of cheap vodka-coke in front of them. Loud music played and Harry almost didn’t catch what Louis said.

"You really don't," Harry agreed. He jumped slightly, as someone touched his shoulder. Turning, Harry faced a tall, blonde guy and he was definitely in Harry's space.

"Hey," the bloke said and well, that had gone quicker than Harry had expected.

"Hey," Harry said back with a slight smirk.

"Mind me if I borrow your friend here for a minute?" he asked and pointed at Louis.

Harry could feel his face fall. What the fuck? Wordlessly, he managed a nod and looked at Louis who seemed just as confused. The guy leaned in to Louis and said something into his ear, what made a smile spread over Louis' features. One of those that crinkled his eyes, turned them into small, shining crescents and made Harry's heart clench -- for no apparent reason, of course. Louis gave him a short, confused smile, before he followed the guy to the dance floor.

Snorting, Harry emptied his glass and then Louis', before he decided that if he got some freedom, he should use it and take it upon himself to hook up with a man for the night. From the corner of his eye, he saw Louis dancing with goldilocks -- too close and too intimate for strangers. Not that Harry minded. Not at all.

He tore his look away from Louis' bum and those scrawny hands approaching it, back to the counter, making eye-contact with the bartender to order another drink. He'd get smashed; that would definitely help.

Thirty minutes later, he was still in the same spot and hitting on a guy with messy ginger hair hadn't gone very well. Harry was alone again and watching Louis at the other side of the room, leaning against the counter of the second bar while chatting to the blond bloke from before, didn't really make him feel any better.

The music really wasn't so loud -- Harry didn't see how it was necessary to lean in so close to Louis' ear.

This was not how this night had been supposed to proceed. This was not how Harry had planned the night. Why was Louis the one hooking up with strangers, when Harry was the one who needed to get laid? He wouldn't live past having to listen to Louis having sex tonight.

Looking back to the bar across the room, Harry found that Louis was gone and for a moment, he panicked. Then, he spotted Louis approaching the restrooms. The blond bloke had his hands on Louis' hips and his chest way too close to Louis' back.

Oh God, Louis apparently didn't even wait to get home; he was just about to have sex in a public toilet. Harry really wasn't up to witness any of that.

He emptied his glass and felt a little unsteady on his own feet, but managed to walk away from the counter. He didn't really feel like hooking up anymore and it would probably be best to just go home and sleep it off.

Louis Tomlinson could go to hell with that blond bloke.

Only when he pushed through the door did he realise that he hadn't gone to the exit, but to the restroom instead. Louis stood with his back pressed to a wall across from him, the stranger's tongue in his mouth, his hands on Louis’ hips.

Harry didn't even think it through, before he approached them and pushed the blond guy off to drag Louis away.

"What the--" Louis didn't even get out the whole sentence, before Harry had him pushed through the door.

"We're going home," he simply announced, tone firm. Whatever panic he felt was suppressed by anger and blind aggression.

"Are you insane?" Louis started to push back, fighting Harry's grip, which only made Harry's fingers dig deeper into Louis' skin.

Harry crossed the dance floor and pushed open the doors that led outside, Louis close behind him, oddly quiet. He raised a hand for a cab that slowly approached and opened the door, pushing Louis in first. Sliding in next to him, Harry told the driver the address and fell silent, stared out of the window.

He really hoped Louis was smart enough not to start a fight in a cab. Harry honestly didn't need any witness to this. Actually, Harry hoped Louis would just drop the topic altogether. Pretend this had never happened.

He didn't think he'd get that lucky.

They arrived and Harry paid, before he got off and dashed ahead, opening the door. He heard Louis follow and inwardly screamed, as he climbed the stairs. What had gotten into him to do that?

It actually looked as if--

"Would you bother to explain just why exactly you're acting like a jealous boyfriend?" Louis' voice was steady and freezing cold.

 _A jealous boyfriend_. Exactly, that was what all this had looked like. Harry wanted the ground to just swallow him. He opened the door to their flat and kicked off his shoes.

"I don't," he said.

Louis snorted out a laugh. "Excuse me, but are you aware of what you just did?"

"Listen. We didn't talk about this." Harry threw the keys to the kitchen table and slowly turned to Louis. He just had to face Louis and make him believe what Harry was about to say. He just had to deliver a proper act for once. "Like, what happens when any of us brings someone back home."

Louis raised a brow. "I wasn't aware we had to."

"It's awkward, okay?" Harry shrugged and he knew he didn't come across as convincing as he wanted to. Damn all the acting and lying. He’s never been good at it. "If the others had been around, I could have just crashed at any of their sofas, but like this..." The words died on his tongue.

"So," Louis summarised, "you dragged me out of there and back home, because you didn't want to risk possibly hearing me having sex in my room."

Harry shrugged again. Oh God, what was he supposed to say? How was he even supposed to defend what he had just done? 

"Did it occur to you for just a second that I could have gone to his place?" 

Even worse, Harry thought and he wondered if his face showed it, too. He didn't want Louis to go to anyone's place for the night and he didn't want Louis to bring anyone home for the night. This was pretty fucked up. 

But Louis was here. Home, and no one else but Harry had gone home with him. Harry couldn’t help but think that it was what mattered most. 

He rather didn’t think about what _that_ actually meant. 

Upon not getting an answer to that, Louis sighed and crossed his arms. "I can't believe you just ruined my chances for some good sex tonight out of pure selfishness."

Harry swallowed thickly and he felt as if the room around him got smaller and smaller by the minute. "Sorry," he choked out.

"Yeah, that'll compensate," Louis said dryly and turned away. "I'll just be in my room, sleep it off."

Harry watched him leave and stayed back. He heard Louis' door shut and let go of a groan.

Fuck. This had probably been the dumbest thing Harry had ever done in his life. He just couldn't control himself. And that damn crush on Louis really didn't make it any better -- as if there was a way it could make Harry feel any better to have a crush on the boy he lived with, who wasn’t his type and who wasn’t even interested in Harry. He didn't have a right to act possessive over Louis or even jealous.

They were friends. Goddamn friends who lived together and if any of them would bring home a bloke for sex, the other would have to deal with it.

Why couldn't Harry deal with it?

He should have just let Louis go home with that bloke. Here or wherever. If Louis ended up bringing someone back home for sex, Harry should really be able to deal. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d have knocked Liam and Zayn’s door in the middle of the night. 

But Harry really didn’t want to leave his own flat, just so Louis could have sex. He’d probably see why he should have, when he would be sober in the morning. But right now, he couldn’t think of a single reason. 

And Louis really didn’t make it that easy with his bright eyes and that smile and those curves and his _tininess_ and everything that really didn’t attract Harry. He frowned slightly and buried his face in his hands, as the room started spinning around him too fast. 

Fuck this; it did. It did attract Harry in his drunken mind and he really hated that Louis was mad at him. After all, they were friends, right? And Harry really didn’t like upsetting any of his friends. He needed to make this right. 

If it hadn’t been for him, Louis would have sex right now and he’d probably be on his third orgasm already (although Harry doubted that that blond bloke really was as awesome in bed. He just didn’t look like it). Instead, Louis had been dragged home by Harry and lay in his bed all by himself now. 

That didn’t actually leave him with many options to make it up to Louis. But Harry had to make it up to him. He wouldn’t stand Louis being still mad at him tomorrow morning. His mum always said he shouldn’t go to bed angry, that he should sort it out before sleep. 

Frowning, Harry filled a glass with tab water and tried to push the thought of his mother aside. He really shouldn’t be thinking of her, not with what he was about to do.

This really hadn't gone as he had planned, at all. It was actually as far as possible from his initial plan.

Fuck.

+++

Louis closed the door behind himself and instantly, his knees gave way and he slid down to the floor, crouching with his face buried in his hands.

Harry Styles would be the death of him.

He had known exactly why he hadn't wanted to go out with Harry. But Harry had argued that it wouldn’t be as fun without Louis and he had that damn puppy look perfected and knew exactly when to use it -- and that it would work. 

Up until today, they had always stayed at either of their flats and got smashed, crawling into their beds afterwards and having hungover breakfast together next morning.

Louis could handle that. That was fine. He could handle Harry getting touchy-feely when he was tipsy and he could handle him shifting to Louis, leaning against him. Harry did that with the other lads, too. No harm done, just gestures between friends.

But, going out, Louis had known he wouldn't be able to handle the situation. Having to imagine Harry hooking up with anyone and knowing he'd take them back home to the flat, to the room right next to Louis', into the bed Louis had spent so many nights holding Harry -- how was he even supposed to handle that?

Best case scenario would have been Louis hooking up and just go home to their place and hope whoever had gone home with Harry would be gone in the morning, when he'd come back.

That plan had actually seemed to work out.

Until Harry had had a _minor_ jealousy attack.

Louis tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

How was he supposed to react to that? Had Harry really been jealous? Or was it really just him trying to avoid an awkward situation? Maybe, what he had said had been the truth. They had never talked about anything like that.

Then again, Louis hadn't thought it was an issue. After all, they were friends and nothing was going on. If any of them wanted to bring someone home, it shouldn't be a problem.

Louis couldn't take it, couldn't handle it. This was way too much for his infatuated heart to take. If Harry acted like that, Louis couldn't guarantee for it to get any better, that infatuation.

He dragged himself to his feet and pushed off his clothes to crawl into bed. The alcohol had long lost its effects and Louis just wished to feel drunk again. It would probably drown all the thoughts and doubts and needs and desires.

He drifted into sleep, his thoughts occupied by Harry and the look on his face, when Louis had confronted him in the kitchen. Those green eyes, shining glassy in the dim kitchen light, anxiety and uncertainness clearly written all over his face.

Louis still didn't have an answer to who Harry Styles was to act the way he did.

When he woke up again, it was to a warm, moist breath on his neck and his own laboured breath shuttering out of his lungs, a hand in his hair, the other... Louis arched off the mattress and let go of a moan, as exactly that other hand stroke along his cock, dragged slightly and long fingers squeezed gently.

He was hard; he was hard and so close to orgasm and Louis couldn't grasp a single thought to decipher just exactly how he had got to that point. Or why exactly Harry lay next to him, with his hand wrapped around Louis' cock, while his own pressed hot, slightly moist and impossibly hard into Louis' hip.

"Fuck," Louis choked out, breathless. "Harry."

Harry made a quiet "shh" noise into Louis' ear, before he caught the earlobe between his teeth and gently nibbled. He moved his mouth south to Louis' shoulder and bit -- not all that gentle anymore. Louis saw stars explode behind his eyes, as Harry gave his hand just the right twist around Louis' erection.

He came into Harry's hand, Harry stroking him through it and whispering words Louis couldn't even grasp. The whispers stopped and Louis came down from his heights, only their rasping breaths filling the silence.

"This really tops it off," Louis managed to say.

"Is that a pun?" Harry asked.

Louis couldn't help but laugh at that. He dared open his eyes and looked at the ceiling. His skin turned cold by the minute that he lay naked in the darkness, his duvet pushed to his feet. "You've been acting strange tonight," he explained, "but this really tops it off."

"I..." Harry fell silent and Louis decided to wait for what he had to say instead of freaking out about what had just happened. "You said my apology didn't compensate for what you missed out on tonight."

Louis closed his eyes again and felt a rush of pure, warm affection run through his body. This boy just couldn't be real. "You sneak into my bed and give me a hand job while I'm asleep, because you think you're at fault I didn't get laid tonight?"

"I _am_ at fault," Harry simply answered.

Well, that much was true. Louis threw one arm over his face. "Still, it's a strange way to make up for it."

Silence stretched between them and Louis was on the brink of saying more; saying things he would probably regret later, when Harry suddenly said, quiet and low, "I really didn't want you to be angry with me."

And, fuck, Louis didn't think anyone could ever be angry with Harry. He always managed to be adorable. In all his quirkiness. Louis turned to him, felt Harry's face close to his, before he could even see it. He shifted and his look flickered to Harry's lips, shortly, before he realised Harry was still hard and very much erected against Louis' hip.

"Idiot," Louis mumbled quietly and ran his hand down Harry's stomach, taking him into his hand. Harry gasped, before he leaned in and buried his face against Louis' neck.

Louis thought he was probably still dreaming. He would perhaps wake up tomorrow morning, alone in his bed and with a painful erection, because of a dream where he had Harry's hand on his dick. A dream, where he could turn to Harry and run his hand over naked skin -- not just platonically, but to arouse and to please. To feel.

The thought drove Louis crazy and he felt Harry nuzzle impossibly closer, a small whine falling from his lips, muffled by Louis' skin. He shuddered, his movements stopped and Louis felt Harry spill between them, warm, stickiness spreading over his own skin and Harry's.

Again, nothing but panting filled the room, while Harry relaxed in Louis' arms. Louis pulled his hand from Harry's cock and put it lightly over his hip. Harry sighed, before he fetched out of Louis' embrace and bent over the edge of the bed. He had a t-shirt or something alike in his hand; Louis couldn't make it out in the dark.

Carefully, Harry cleaned Louis up, before he wiped himself and threw the t-shirt back to the floor. He looked at Louis with uncertain eyes and Louis understood that he wasn't sure if he was allowed to stay.

What a hilarious thought. As if Louis could ask him to leave, after this. 

"Come here," Louis said quietly and shifted to make more space. Harry's expression relaxed and he lay down again, next to Louis, while he pulled the duvet over their naked bodies.

Like that, they lay both on their backs for a little while, looks turned to the ceiling. Louis wasn't sure if he was allowed to reach out and pull Harry back in. They had shared a bed for weeks now and usually, cuddling up to each other had not been an issue. But, how was he supposed to know if cuddling after sex was an issue?

He licked his lips and closed his eyes, concentrated on Harry's steady breathing next to him. Right now, he rather wouldn't think of any consequences this could have. Things between him and Harry had been so good -- something between them had just clicked into place from the very beginning.

Sex usually made things complicated and Louis didn't want it to be complicated between them. It had been complicated for Louis for a while, with his crush on Harry and all, but that had been his secret, his dirty little secret, where he dreamt of Harry and looked at him, when no one else was looking.

And maybe, this was a one-night-thing, just as Harry had said; just a compensation for ruining Louis' night. Maybe, it was just for tonight and wouldn’t ever happen again. 

What if it would never happen again? What if Louis would never get more of the taste he had gotten tonight? 

Louis didn't think he could spend another two months living with Harry, knowing what his skin felt like, knowing what his moaning sounded like, how he rutted against Louis in small, languid movements, how those long fingers felt on Louis' cock, and not being able to take it again.

Louis didn't think he would be able to bear it.

When he woke up the next morning, Harry was still there next to him. Neither of them had nuzzled in to the other, they just lay side by side, facing each other on their stomachs. Harry was fast asleep, his lips slightly opened, his hair messy, a loose curl over his forehead, long, dark lashes curling against his cheeks.

And his hand lay on the pillow in front of his face, right next to Louis'. Their pinkies were touching.

Louis watched him with sleepy eyes for a moment and realised it hadn't been a dream.

This was really happening.

+++

Harry felt like dying. For several reasons.

First of all, he had a terrible headache. Second of all, the sunlight hurt his eyes, when he tried opening them. Third of all, his mouth tasted as if something crawled in there to die.

And last but not least, he thought and rolled to his back, slowly and carefully to not make his pain any worse, he had had sex with Louis.

Well, handjobs, but that did count as sex in Harry's mind.

The plan, as usual, had been different. Harry had just wanted to sneak in, get Louis worked up and get him to orgasm quickly, before quietly sneaking out again.

Louis had thrown it all off by turning to Harry the moment he had crawled into Louis' bed, pulling him in, mumbling Harry's name. Louis had mumbled his name and had nuzzled his nose to Harry's chest and how had Harry been supposed to react?

Louis was adorable, cute and so fucking endearing -- Harry had never realised it before, until that very moment. And he had only wanted to cuddle him and hold Louis close and fall asleep right there, close and tucked into Louis' arms. He wasn't quite sure how Louis managed to make him feel tucked in, because, really, he was so much smaller than Harry and usually, Harry was the one who would tuck Louis in when they shared a bed, but---But, somehow, Louis just had tucked Harry in.

Harry had reminded himself what he had come for and had slowly started moving his hand over Louis' waist to his abdomen and down. And it had been fucking hot, the way Louis had reacted. Harry could only have stared at Louis' face in awe, as he had started stroking him through the thin fabric of his boxers. His face had been so close to Harry's and his lips slightly parted, with his breath getting quicker and shallow and hot on Harry's skin.

Harry had wanted to kiss him. He had felt that urge in every fibre of his body. The urge to just lean in and lock their lips and lick into Louis' mouth, find out if he would kiss back in his sleep. Find out what he would look like when he'd wake up to Harry on top of him, kissing his mindlessly.

But just when Harry had been about to abandon all of his doubts and worries, Louis had done it again.

"Harry," he had breathed out in such a wrecked little whisper that it had all of Harry's blood travel straight down from his brain to his cock.

Louis wasn't thinking of some random blond bloke and he wasn't thinking of anyone like Greg or whoever he had an offer to have sex with, probably---Harry couldn't know after all. Just because he wasn't all that interested in Louis didn't mean there weren't any other people offering.

Point was, Louis apparently wasn't thinking of them when he got aroused in his dreams. He had thought of Harry. And Harry had to admit it had turned him on. The way Louis had slowly started to move against him, fall into rhythm with his hand and make those soft noises, his voice low and husky when he had moaned.

It had been rather sexy and Harry could not have helped getting worked up himself. He hadn't known it would turn out that way; hadn't planned for Louis to wake up and return the favour. He hadn't planned on having to answer questions so soon. But, Louis had been strangely calm about it. What with the fact that Louis apparently hadn't been all that opposed to the idea of having sex with Harry, hadn't been that surprising to Harry anymore.

He hadn't planned to get weak and stay with Louis.

But since he had, Harry had to admit, he felt slightly disappointed to wake up by himself. He had strangely got used to waking up curled around Louis or with his face buried against Louis' shoulder. Instead, he hadn't even fallen asleep like that, after they had had---sex. It was, after all, sex.

He opened his eyes and blinked, the plain ceiling -- same as in his own room -- coming into his view. By now, Harry couldn't tell whether he was in his own bed or Louis' anymore from just the scent. At the beginning he had been able to recognise it, with his eyes closed. But, by now, his bed didn't smell of him alone anymore and Louis' didn't smell of only Louis anymore. It had quite mixed up and it smelled like... them.

Harry blinked again, lazily adjusting his eyes to the light.

The door opened and he didn't even bother turning his head. He'd have to face Louis and he'd have to explain and tell him and Harry really had no idea what to tell him.

Being drunk was just not enough of an excuse, was it?

The mattress dipped lightly, as Louis sat down next to him and Harry now moved his head. Louis wore simple black shorts and a grey shirt and it made Harry aware that he himself was naked, only covered to his waist by Louis' duvet.

Louis held out a cup for him and Harry sat up, adjusting the duvet over his lap, before he took it and was handed a painkiller pill. Harry swallowed it quickly, mumbling, "thanks" and offered Louis a lopsided smile. He really wasn't sure why exactly he was shy about his nakedness now -- Harry was never shy about being naked.

Smiling back, Louis slid beneath the duvet again, nipping his tea and Harry was grateful he didn't yet ask or talk or whatever it was that would come next. Instead, they just sat together in silence, nipping their teas, both hungover and still tired.

"So," Louis finally said, after a while.

Harry lifted his head and looked at him, trying to force his expression to stay indecipherable. He didn't think it actually worked -- it never did -- but he couldn't give himself away too soon.

"So?" he asked instead.

Louis shrugged. "I really have no idea where to start."

Harry swallowed and stared into his tea cup, tried to make out an reflection. Maybe, he should start? It had been his stupid idea and Louis had really had no choice in all of it. He could really understand, if Louis was upset or confused or---whatever.

"When you first moved in, I really thought you were not my type at all," was what he finally said. Great.

Louis seemed to take it lightly. "We are all wrong at times," he said, tone amused.

Harry wondered if he really was amused. How could Louis be amused about all this? They were friends and they had had something really nice going on between them, something that made him feel like he and Louis could be best mates, _special_ best mates. Louis just understood him so well and he always came up with the right answer. He could react to any mood and Harry really liked him. Just, not in a romantic way.

Definitely not in a romantic way. That's why this night had been a mistake and Harry was afraid -- with Louis saying Harry's name in his sleep -- that probably Louis didn't view it that way. He wasn't ready to break a heart. Especially not Louis'.

"You're still not," Harry finally said.

"So, looks like I am wrong at times, too," Louis answered and drank from his cup. Harry watched Louis' hands and found them steady, his face calm, eyes still tired.

"This can happen between friends, right?" Harry asked in an desperate attempt to keep it together. It didn't look like that, but he really didn't want his friendship with Louis to fall apart. "You're really great, you know? Like, living with you is relaxed and you have that really nice humour that you get my jokes and we have fun together, don't we? It's just, we're really not more than friends and I really don't want to lose that, just because I did something really stupid when I was drunk."

It was silent for a moment and Harry felt his heart in his throat, afraid that Louis would just get up and leave or yell at him or wouldn't understand it.

Instead, Louis turned his head after a moment and smiled at him. He reached out and ruffled Harry's hair, laughing slightly. "Those were quite some 'reallys' in a single sentence, Curly."

Harry relaxed and returned the smile.

"It can happen between friends," Louis said after a moment and drew back his hand. "Doesn't mean anything is going to change. It helped figure that there's nothing between us on that level, right?"

Harry nodded and felt a grin tug at the corner of his mouth. He had never felt as relieved. He wouldn't lose Louis and Louis felt about it the way that he did. Louis wasn't mad at him for what had happened. That was all he needed to know.

"So," Harry said and nudged his knee against Louis' under the duvet. "Friends?"

Louis nudged back slightly. "Friends."

+++  
"Have you sent Harry a message?"

Louis checked his mobile again and nodded. "Yes. He knows. He said he'll come straight from his seminar."

"Great," Liam said and beamed as Woodstock came into sight again, approaching them fast on his short, stubby legs, a branch of a tree, taller than the dog, between his teeth.

"How can he even lift a branch like that?" Louis frowned.

"Where did he even find a branch like that?" Liam countered and bent down to caress Woodstock's head, as he reached Liam. The dog pranced around Liam's legs and Liam rewarded him with a goodie.

"Didn't we have an agreement?"

Louis turned to see Zayn approaching, a dark green scarf over his leather jacket and a grey beanie on his head. He had his hands buried in his pockets and grinned slightly. Liam turned, too and Woodstock let out an excited bark, before he dashed off to greet Zayn. Zayn picked him up and let the dog lick his face in excitement.

Liam approached them and held out another goodie for Woodstock as distraction to place a kiss on Zayn' lips. Louis wondered if they knew just how fucking adorable they were and how much like an old married couple they acted.

"I told you not to feed him goodies for nothing," Zayn scolded.

Liam grinned. "That wasn't for nothing. He found something to play with that isn't a dead animal."

Louis rather didn't think of where exactly in this park a dog would find dead animals. And what kind of dead animals or what had killed those poor souls. Louis eyed Woodstock and wondered if a small dog like him would be capable of killing another animal. Not another dog, of course, but maybe a cat. Or some harmless bird or mouse or whatever was small enough for him to kill. Woodstock wiggled his tail and gazed up at Liam and Zayn.

Louis saw that Zayn had obvious troubles to contain a grin himself. "And that just now?"

"Well," Liam said and shrugged, feeding their dog another one. "That's for finding _me_ something to play with."

Zayn laughed and pulled Liam in for a proper kiss, the dog between them, patiently looking up at his masters.

"You guys are so disgusting," Louis commented and adjusted the beanie over his hair.

"Won't convince us it's true the millionth time you say this," Zayn pointed out and let go of Liam, wrapping Louis in a hug.

Louis returned it and bit back a smile. "Won't stop to surrender," he declared, pinching Zayn's waist.

It was March, finally, and Louis could smell that spring was just around the corner. It wasn't quite warm yet, but on days like this one, with the sun out and high in the sky, he could feel it coming.

Two months with Harry; Louis still counted weeks by how long he had lived with Harry. Things had changed ever since Harry had sneaked into Louis' bed and had delivered him a handjob. On the surface, everything was still as it used to be, but not beneath. He didn't think Harry knew or noticed. Louis was a good actor and he didn't let anything on.

They were friends and nothing more and everything was the way they had agreed on after that night, calmly drinking tea in the morning.

If it was what Harry wanted, Louis wouldn't object to it. There was no use, anyway. Harry had made it clear that he wasn't interested in Louis, that it had been a mistake and that Louis was just a friend to him.

That was okay. Louis could live with that. Perfectly fine. After all, it didn't really change anything between them. They had been friends before and Louis had had a secret crush on Harry, and they were friends now, with Louis having a secret crush on Harry.

No big deal. Except, maybe, for all those times when Louis would remember what it had felt like to actually touch Harry. All those times when he would get really worked up by just the sight of Harry strolling around the flat in nothing but boxer briefs. All those times when Louis would feel his heart drop when Harry cuddled up to him, watching a movie and falling asleep against Louis' chest.

The thing was, he couldn't really be mad at Harry. He was so oblivious and he definitely didn't have any bad intentions. He was adorable and quirky as always, random in his thoughts, slow in his talks, cuddly when he got tired and touchy-feely when he was tipsy. And so damn fucking beautiful. At any time.

He was smiling now, as he approached them together with Niall. His curls slightly moved in the wind and he wore a coat with a fur collar that was shaped like a Christmas bell over his hips and skinny legs in his damn skinny jeans .

He looked like a little French school girl.

And Louis honestly wondered how Harry could pull it off without looking completely ridiculous. Instead, he looked so adorably endearing.

Louis didn't have a single doubt left that he was cursed. And having met Harry was his punishment for every single bad thing he had ever done in his life.

"Hi, lads," Niall greeted them, giving short hugs, before he dropped the football which he had carried under his left arm to chase Woodstock down the path.

Harry grinned happily, watching them, before he got pulled in by Zayn and Liam pinched his cheek.

"You never have time for me anymore," Harry complained, as he wound his arms around Zayn's middle, a mock-pout on his lips. "Now that you have a new kid."

Liam laughed. "You've grown up so fast and the house feels so empty without a child."

Harry fetched away and approached Louis, throwing an arm over his shoulders and pulling him in. Louis wanted to melt into it. Harry smelled like vanilla and honey and lemon and salt, all at once. "Now you missed me getting my first real boyfriend. Was that worth it?"

Zayn grinned. "Didn't miss a single part of it." He flicked a finger against Harry's forehead. "Come bother us again when it's time for the actual wedding."

Harry grinned and pressed a kiss to Louis' cheek. "You won't be invited."

Louis wanted to die. Or Harry's lips to linger there over his cheek for a little longer. It all really didn't make that much of a difference.

"We'll have Niall adopt us," Harry said.

"Have you actually thought _that_ bit through?" Louis frowned at him and couldn't help but lift a hand to move a stray curl from Harry's eye.

"Every Irish is a family man. " Harry gave him a smile. "And he won't have to, like, support us, Lou. We'll just have a loving parent instead of these two, who abandoned us for a puppy."

Liam didn't even listen anymore, completely engrossed in showing Niall a trick Woodstock had learnt the other day. Zayn gave them a fond smile and leaned in to them, winking. "You two will always be my favourite kids."

Louis smirked. "What do I have to do to be your only favourite kid?"

"Dunno," Zayn answered and shrugged. "Stop shagging the other kid?"

Harry gasped, fell silent and Louis saw him blushing -- and okay, Harry couldn't lie for shit, so this was on him. Or else, the other boys would find out that he and Harry had actually had--- well, that they had an encounter that had ended with Harry turning Louis down.

Louis really didn't need that to add to his misery.

"I'm not into those kind of kinks," he answered calmly, a small smug grin on his lips. "Who's shagging dogs, Zayn? That's gross."

Zayn laughed and flipped his hand against Louis' head, before he turned to Niall, as he waved him over.

Louis glanced at Harry and he had his head bowed, his bottom lip between his teeth.

Louis wanted to yell at him and tug him into a tight hug at the same time. Instead, he poked Harry's cheek until his dimples showed up and the others turned back to them. They played footie and for moments, minutes and longer, Louis forgot what was going down in his life.

In that moment, he was with four of his mates, who had suddenly become so important to him and who were all irreplaceable now. It wasn't just Niall anymore, it was Niall who would always be there, no matter what. And it wasn't _LiamandZayn_ anymore. It was Liam who had shaved his hair, because he was in love and who had the kindest heart Louis had ever come across. It was Zayn who had the most sarcastic mind of them all, but only ever showed it when necessary and was protective of the ones he loved.

And Harry. Not Harry he had a crush on, but Harry who talked so slow and laughed so loud, who was perfectly polite and had the mind of an eighty-year old granny, with the heart of five-year old boy.

Those moments were gold and Louis wouldn't exchange them for anything in the world. He wouldn't have them for that much longer, so he decided to enjoy them as much as he could. As long as he was still able to keep those four around, he wouldn't let go of any of it.

All Louis could do was remind himself that it was less than a month. One more month, and he would be able to just disappear from Harry's life altogether. Of course, he could just move out now and crash at Niall's for the remaining three weeks, but he would have to explain himself.

And how was he supposed to explain Harry -- or the other boys -- that he couldn't be around him, when all that Louis wanted was to be around him? Of course, he enjoyed every single minute he spent with Harry and every smile, every laugh, every word, every touch was neatly tucked into a corner of Louis' mind. Sometimes, he would let those spill in the middle of the night and drown in them, imagining all of it had any meaning.

Only, while he would lie with his eyes closed and basked in memories of Harry's skin and looks and hair, Harry would lie there right next to him, sleeping peacefully. To him, it wasn't anything special, nothing that was even a fraction as wonderful as it was to Louis. He liked Louis, and he enjoyed his company, Louis could tell, but he didn't act any differently around him than he acted with Niall and Liam and Zayn.

Louis didn't think he could ever be that special for Harry. He would move on and forget about Harry, probably just let it die slowly, so Harry wouldn't suspect anything. Or hurt over losing Louis.

Louis really wanted to be friends and they _were_ friends. But, Louis really _couldn't_ just be friends.He wanted more and he needed it more desperately with every day that passed.

Some mornings, when he woke up before Harry, he lay just there, watching him. Harry looked like a child when asleep and it made Louis smile. His curls hung loosely over his forehead and his dark lashes curled softly underneath his lids, his lips pink and full.

Louis sometimes dared reaching out and running his thumb over them. He'd watch them turn a light pink from the slight pressure and then turn back to their usual colour, when he drew his hand away. Harry never stirred, never noticed.

Every morning, when he woke up before Harry, his hand covered Harry's or lay close enough to have them touch in any way. Harry never cuddled up to him anymore in his sleep and Louis never forced it. So, they slept next to each other, but apparently, Louis couldn't control it all as well as he had thought. His hand always sought out Harry's.

Well, Harry didn't know and if he did, he never mentioned it.

+++

Louis lay on his side and watched Harry sleep the next morning. The sun had long risen, but its light was weak and shadowed by the heavy clouds outside that poured endless buckets of rain. His hand lay close to Harry's, close enough for their fingertips to touch. Louis gently moved his against Harry's, played with his fingers in a lazy rhythm, laced them, entangled them, laced them again.

It was exactly that morning, when the realisation hit him that Harry's fingers perfectly fitted between his. They filled the gaps between Louis', didn’t leave a single inch of skin untouched, and were warm against the back of his hand. Long and slender and if Harry wanted, he could wrap up Louis' hands completely between his.

Their hands fitted together perfectly.

And Louis was in love with Harry.

+++

"I got a job!" Harry announced the moment he stormed into the living room.

Louis looked up from his book and blinked, seeming a little confused, struggling to make sense of it, before he smiled at Harry. His fringe was messily shoved out of his face and he wore his glasses.

Harry realised he really liked Louis in his glasses.

"Right in time," Louis answered and put his book aside, his glasses on top of it. He stretched and his jumper rid up his waist, revealed a bit of skin. Harry tore his look away.

Louis would move out in two weeks and those three months had somehow come to an end much sooner than Harry had suspected. He would miss Louis.

"Which job did you get?" Louis patted the cushion next to him and Harry flopped down, put his head to Louis' lap.

"The bakery," Harry answered. "The one just around the corner from your new flat." He tilted his head back to look at Louis' face and saw him smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "What?"

"What, what?" Louis ran his hand into Harry's curls and twirled them around his fingers. "Good for you, I'd say."

"You don't look too happy."

"Would you want me to scream and shout?"

"... and let it all out?" Harry smirked. "No. Nevermind. I'm just happy it worked out. They are very nice and I even get to help out in the kitchen. Like, bake and stuff."

Louis put a hand over his heart. "They let you bake in a bakery?"

Harry snickered and pinched Louis' stomach. Louis batted his hand away and tugged his jumper further down over his belly. Resting his hand over his own, Harry smiled fondly and closed his eyes. It wasn't the first time he noticed Louis was insecure about his body. He would never admit to it, but Louis showed all these little signs of being insecure and Harry thought it was adorable. In the way that Louis was just adorable.

Louis' hands kept running through his curls and Harry thought that he could fall asleep like this; he wouldn't mind at all. Maybe Louis wouldn't mind either.

"Harry."

Louis' voice was small and soft and Harry really didn't want to open his eyes, but he still did. His eyes immediately found Louis' looking back at him.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

Louis kept silent for a little longer and his hand stopped, tangled in Harry's hair, as he opened his mouth. Then he closed it again and his hand kept moving.

"I spoke to the landlord today and he said I can move my things in next Wednesday."

Harry blinked his eyes. "Already?"

"Yeah, well. It's just two weeks, until I move in there. Thursday in two weeks." Louis shrugged, his fingers were still gently scraping Harry's scalp.

"I know," Harry said. "I just... I knew, but now it suddenly seems so soon."

Louis smiled slightly. "Yeah. Can't wait to sit on my balcony, as soon as summer starts."

And what was that? Had that just made Harry's heart drop in his chest? Louis looked forward to moving out from Harry's flat and Harry just realised that he didn't. He didn't look forward to it, at all. He would be alone again and he hated living all by himself.

Harry doubted any person would ever be as perfect a flatmate as Louis was.

"I'll have my naked room back," he said, trying not to let on what was really going through his mind. "Can't wait, either."

Louis laughed. "Your naked room?"

"A room where it is forbidden to wear clothes. Every flat should have a room like that." Harry grinned cheekily.

"That's the most ridiculous thing you've said in a while," Louis told him and shifted slightly. "You've extended that rule to the whole flat long ago."

"Didn't have much of a choice, when my naked room's been occupied by you. Dressed you, by the way," Harry added and smirked.

"I wasn't aware of the rule," Louis let him know. "If I had been, I would have, of course, stuck to being naked at any time in that room."

"Well, you still have two weeks to make up for it and live by the rules."

"One week," Louis corrected.

"Oh, yeah." Harry frowned. "Can't really stay in that room, when you've already moved your things out. In that case," he added and wiggled his brows, "I'll extend the rule to the whole flat again. You can take your nakedness to the sofa, then."

Louis tugged a curl, being not all that gentle about it. "You made me sleep in your bed for more than two months, while mine was just next door. And when I'll move mine out, you send me to sleep on the sofa?"

Harry laughed and sat up, crossing his legs. "Only, when you're naked."

" _You_ told me to be naked."

Smirking, Harry reached out to run a finger over the crinkles on Louis' forehead. "Why are you still dressed, then?"

And suddenly, the air between them was thick and Harry noticed he was closer to Louis than before. It wasn't Louis who had leaned in; it was him. Harry was bent over and Louis' face was just inches away from Harry's. His look flickered to Louis' lips for just a second, before it shot up again, hooking on his eyes.

Louis was still, didn't move, just stared back and he looked as if he was frozen; eyes wide, mouth slack.

And shit, there it was again. Every now and then, it would just sneak up on Harry -- just like that night, when he had made that mistake and had given in to it. There was this odd attraction to Louis; Harry couldn't explain it, couldn't say where it suddenly came from, but it always came back.

He had to get rid of it, it made things between him and Louis really awkward. They were friends and friends just didn't get sexually attracted.So, when exactly had Harry started to feel attracted to Louis? And when exactly had he started to look at Louis’ lips and think about what it would feel like to kiss them? 

Fuck, but Harry had just instinctively leaned in to kiss Louis and that really should not have happened. Never.

Louis was the first of them to snap out of it. He lifted a hand and flipped a finger against Harry's cheek.

"Too close, Styles," he said and his voice sounded bemused.

Harry sat back and managed a laugh, but he knew he really just looked sheepish. "I'll head for a nap, before work and---yeah."

"Yeah, sure," Louis answered and picked up his book and his glasses again. And okay, Harry had to get out of the room, before Louis would put those glasses on. They really didn't help.

Since exactly when had he been this screwed?

+++

Louis zipped up his bag and rose from the floor to have another look around Harry's room. It was dark outside and the room was only illuminated by the small night light next to Harry's bed.

Louis had tried falling asleep, but nothing could really have worked. He had never once before fallen asleep all by himself in Harry's bed. It didn't feel right.

It was half past two in the middle of the night. Harry was working and Louis spent his last night in Harry's flat. Usually, when Harry was on his night shift, Louis had spent the night in his own bed; the only night out of the whole week that he wouldn't sleep next to Harry. Now, however, his bed was already in his new flat and falling asleep all by himself in Harry's bed just didn't feel right. He hadn’t even attempted getting into bed; it had looked too big, too empty and too cold without Harry in it.

So, instead of going to bed, Louis had occupied himself otherwise.

Tomorrow at ten, he would meet the landlord to sign the contract and receive the keys. After that, he'd officially move into his new flat with two rooms and a balcony. Louis really already loved the place.

A week ago, they had moved all of his stuff over. The landlord had had no objections and since there had only been a few things to be fixed in the bathroom, it hadn't been a problem to leave his boxes and furniture in the other rooms.

Zayn and Liam had been very impressed and had invited themselves for dinner on Louis' first weekend in the new flat. Niall had, of course, joined in immediately and opted for a barbeque on Louis' balcony --- which was entirely too small for anything like that, but he knew they would still do it. Just for the hell of it.

Harry had been rather quiet throughout the evening. He had helped moving Louis' stuff, had agreed to the nice comments made about the flat, but he hadn't really been himself.

And it did bother Louis. Harry seemed upset with the whole situation and Louis had no idea how to handle it. After all, the deal had been clear from the beginning and Louis really was relieved to move out of the flat. He didn't think he'd ever get over the heart attack he had had, when Harry had almost kissed him that one afternoon.

Playing it cool, pretending it was a joke, had been the hardest thing to do. Louis had wanted to lean in and catch those lips between his --- he had even started dreaming about Harry's mouth. It had developed into a sick obsession that left Louis with a mind constantly occupied with Harry's lips.

He could have given in. He knew that it had been the perfect moment to give in and just get a taste of Harry's lips, find out what a kiss would be like. But, in all honesty -- and in front of himself Louis could be honest about his feelings for Harry, if not in front of anyone else -- Louis was afraid of what would have happened after.

He could have pushed Harry off the night he had snuck into Louis' bed. Instead, he had taken what he could have got, hoping it would get him exactly where he had wanted to be. Instead, it had ended with Harry saying it had been a mistake.

Kissing Harry, finding out what it would be like and having him say it was a mistake afterwards, was about the last thing Louis thought he could take.

Not again.

Instead, he played along to Harry's illusion of them being nothing more than friends. He could do that; he could act that much out.

And now, all of it was finally over. He wouldn't have to feel that emotional strain anymore, when he'd wake up with Harry next to him, wouldn't have to force the heat in his stomach to die down when was having breakfast and Harry would stroll into the kitchen, wearing close to nothing.

He wouldn't sit on the sofa anymore, watching trashy programmes on telly, while Harry curled up at his side. Never again would he come home to a lovely homemade dinner and chat with Harry while they ate.

Moving out had its good and bad parts. Louis tried to focus on the good ones, as they were those that mattered in the long run. As lovely as living with Harry was, it didn't get him anywhere; not as long as Harry insisted they were nothing more than friends.

The sooner Louis could get away from that one-sided love, the better. Really. He’d rather not think of the fact that he thought of it as love. It was all pathetic enough already.

Checking his watch again, Louis sighed and eyed the bed.

No, crawling in there without Harry just felt wrong. Like waiting for a lover, keeping the bed warm for him to join when he'd come home and Louis really didn't like that idea. That was not what the relationship between them was like.

They did share a bed every night. But not as lovers.

Instead, Louis left the bedroom and decided he'd just sleep on the sofa. Ten minutes later, he sat behind the wheel of his car and tried telling himself that he wasn't a foolish bastard for picking Harry up.

He'd been awake anyways and he was just doing a friend a favour. Nothing more.

It was worth it, every second of internal conflict and waiting out there in the cold, the moment Harry spotted him and his face lit up. Harry was always beautiful, but he was especially beautiful like this; his eyes tired and red, dark shadows underneath, skin pale and his curls messed up and looking a little greasy. He was not supposed to be pretty looking like that and yet, he did. He managed to be pretty in even a state like that and that's what made him really beautiful in Louis' eyes.

Louis didn't know any other person who could pull it off.

"What are you doing here?" Harry greeted him.

"Couldn't quite sleep, so I thought I could come and pick you up." Louis smiled slightly and saw the orange of the ugly shirt Harry had to wear for this job poking from underneath his jacket. It was the last time he would see Harry like this. Not just because he moved out, but also because it was Harry's last shift. "Get you over with this as soon as possible," he added.

"Lovely," Harry answered and leaned in to press a kiss to Louis' cheek. "You're the best."

It was torture and pleasure at the same time and Louis honestly started to worry about himself. He had possibly developed some masochistic kink.

"Get in," he said, his throat tight and hands strangely sweaty. "I'll take you home."

"I'll miss Henry," Harry commented, as he got in. "We really grew close."

"You'll have to compensate by talking to your hoover. But he's a nice guy, too." Louis smirked. "You'll like him."

"I am almost completely certain that I do spend more time with my hoover than you. Have you even ever seen it?"

"How else would I know he's a nice chap?"

Harry rolled his eyes and sunk deeper into his seat, crossing his arms. "You haven't. Or else you knew what a grumpy bitch he is at times."

"He's never been bitchy to me," Louis clarified.

"Because you don't use it," Harry said under his breath. Humming, he dropped the topic and Louis didn't push it. He reckoned Harry was just tired and not in the mood for banter, so Louis concentrated on the road instead.

"When are you meeting the landlord tomorrow?" Harry asked, after a few minutes of silence.

"At ten. I'll skip my morning class." Louis stopped the car at a traffic light and threw a glance at Harry. "Why?"

"Just asking," Harry said lowly. "I guess I'll see you for lunch, then."

Louis simply nodded. He wasn't yet sure whether he would show up for lunch. Breaking what had become their tradition on the first day already seemed a bit too much. But, Louis planned to pull out from it. He enjoyed hanging with the boys, but with his plan to distance himself from Harry, he couldn't still meet them as often in future.

They both fell silent after that and didn't talk anymore until they reached the flat. Harry went ahead and disappeared into the bathroom before Louis had even closed the door behind himself. Uncertain what to make of it, Louis stripped off his clothes and mindlessly dropped them to the floor. He crawled under the duvet of Harry's bed and lay awake, listening to the sound of the shower running next door, until it stopped.

When Harry came into the bedroom, he was naked. Louis caught a glimpse, but quickly averted his eyes to the ceiling, while Harry took some boxer briefs from a drawer and pulled them over his hips. He slid into bed next to Louis and they lay like that for a while.

Louis closed his eyes, trying to shut out whatever his senses took in. Harry's arm brushed his and his skin was warm and moist and smooth. His hair was still wet and smelled of Louis' shampoo. Harry had started using it at some point and Louis had just left it uncommented. When he had packed up his things earlier, he had left it in the shower, pretending to forget about it.

The sheets rustled and warm skin slid against Louis', as Harry shifted closer, curled up at Louis' side. His big hands came to grip at Louis' waist, pulling him in and wet curls pressed against his shoulder. Louis tried, he really did try not to give in, but his resistance was like a sandcastle against the waves. He turned to face Harry and wound his arms around his middle, pulled him in closer to Louis' chest.

Harry sighed silently and nuzzled his nose against Louis' neck.

This was all pretty much fucked up, but Louis really couldn't do anything. It was for a last time, anyways. It was just these few hours, until Harry would have to get up for his class and leave the flat. And when he'd come back in the afternoon, Louis would be gone.

Just a few hours, Louis reminded himself, and then, he would redline Harry Styles from his life.

+++

Louis startled awake to the sound of Harry's alarm going off. His eyes opened quickly and he groaned lowly as he reached out to grab for Harry's mobile and turn it off. He didn't get that far, however, as Harry had curled around him, holding him in place with his legs entangled with Louis' and his arms tightly wrapped around him.

"Harry," Louis said, his voice hoarse and sleepy. He softly ran his hand down Harry's spine to get him to wake up. "Hey, love. Time to get up."

Harry groaned and nuzzled in closer.

Louis thought he might had to die, if Harry kept coming any closer. It felt like Harry was trying to crawl inside of Louis and it actually seemed to work. Louis could feel his heat everywhere; there wasn't a single inch of his body that didn't touch Harry.

"Come on now," Louis tried again. "You'll miss class."

"Not going," Harry said against Louis' neck. "I'll stay in bed today."

"Are you sick?"

"No."

"Was today's class cancelled?"

"No."

Louis sighed slightly. "Then there is no reason for you to stay in bed."

"There's plenty," Harry argued and -- well, he did manage to come even closer. Louis felt heat collect in the pit of his stomach. Harry's hair still smelled of his shampoo and his skin was soft and warm, fingers digging into Louis' side with just the right amount of pressure.

It was too early for this, Louis thought and suppressed a miserable groan.

"I'm tired," Harry added, as he reached out to turn off his alarm. "And right now it's warm and cosy and I really don't see why I should give up on it."

"Education, Harold," Louis reminded him. "It's for your education."

"Go back to sleep, Lou." Harry pressed his face against Louis' collarbones and his breath ghosted over the skin, warm and moist. "None of your business, if I skip class."

"But you--"

"You're skipping class, too, aren't you?" Harry interrupted Louis' words. "Am I giving you shit for that? Your decision. Skipping my class this morning is thus, mine."

Louis fell silent and bit his lip, staring over Harry's hair to the wall across the room. Harry's breathing evened out again and Louis hoped he was back to sleep. Harry was definitely easier to handle, when he was asleep.

Louis lay awake, with Harry sleeping in his arms, curled up to him and holding on. Harry shifted a few times, but never really let go of Louis in his sleep. It was slightly uncomfortable being pressed up so close and Louis' legs started to feel stiff, but he couldn't bring himself to move out of Harry's arms.

He still lay awake, when a couple of hours later, his own alarm went off. Harry woke up, raised his head and blinked his eyes slowly, before he dropped it back to Louis' shoulder.

"I have to get up," Louis said quietly.

Harry nodded, but didn't yet move. He slid his hand down to Louis' hip and rested it there for a moment. Louis held his breath, but didn't move, either. Slowly, Harry withdrew from Louis and sat up. He looked down at Louis, his eyes tired, but keen. For a moment, Louis thought he would just lean in, but whatever Harry sought in Louis' face, he didn't seem to find it, as he quickly averted his look and swung his legs out of bed.

"I'll fix some breakfast," he murmured and strolled out of the room.

Louis waited for a moment and closed his eyes again, trying to suppress the storm of emotions that had gone loose in his chest. He wouldn't get weak now.

Harry Styles was clearly messing with him and Louis would not let him do that.

The flat smelled of bacon and red beans, when he came out of the bathroom a little while later. Packing up the last few things from the bathroom, he heard Harry quietly sing along to some pop song on the radio. He was just setting the table, when Louis came to the kitchen.

"All ready," Harry said with a slight smile. "I made you some egg on toast."

Louis smiled and sat down at the table, watched Harry fill their plates. "You didn't have to make a fuss, you know."

"Well, it's the last time I can," Harry answered and sat down, too. "Having a flatmate is actually really nice. I'll miss it."

"I'm sure you'll find someone new in no time." And, well, that didn't come out quite the way it had sounded in Louis' head. Why did this feel like breaking up, when there wasn't even anything to _break up_ in the first place?

Harry smiled. "Yeah, I'm sure I will. Liam said he's got a friend who's still looking for a room."

"Make sure the guy is decent." Louis shrugged, as he shovelled some bacon onto his fork. "Liam has quite some douchebag friends."

Harry grinned. "You do remember how you ended up here?"

"Through Niall."

"Who knew Liam." Harry grinned. "Not all of Liam's friends are shady douchebags."

"A few of them are, though. If Zayn wasn't looking out for him..." Louis grinned.

Harry laughed. "No creepy stalkers near Liam, as long as Zayn's around."

Louis smiled and put down his fork, lifted his tea cup to blow across the steaming surface. "Anyway, I am sure you'll find someone to move in soon."

"I might not even want that," Harry said and got up to put his plate to the sink. He kept standing with his back to Louis. Louis could make out bones and muscles under the skin, looking tense. By now, he had seen all of Harry's tattoos, but he had still not asked about their meanings. Harry slightly turned to his left and from this angle, he could see the ship on Harry's arm, a big black heart, a writing across his hip bone. Louis was sure that one hadn't been there last time he had allowed himself to pay any closer attention to Harry's body.

Louis tried not to pay closer attention to Harry's body most of the time.

Right now, he tried to concentrate on what Harry had said, but his mind always went back to how he wanted to trace a finger over Harry's spine and get close enough to find what the writing on his hip bone said.

"You don't?"

Harry shrugged, as he turned. The birds -- Louis had never really been sure what breed they actually were -- were a stark contrast to his pale skin. "I have high expectations for any candidate now. I expect them to play with my hair when I'm sleepy and pick me up from work and share their bed with me. I don't think there’s anyone who would do all that."

Louis smiled slightly and his heart suddenly hurt. He really didn't like thinking in melodramatic metaphors, but the way his heart clenched, as if someone had wrapped their fist around it, honestly didn't leave him a choice.

Fuck Harry and how he made Louis a poetic mess, craving for anything that was just _Harry_.

"I..." Louis swallowed thickly and got up from the chair. "I guess I have to leave."

Harry was quiet for a moment, just watched him and then, nodded with a stern expression.  
Louis fled the kitchen and got his bag from Harry's room, before he slid into his jacket at the door and put on his shoes.

"I'll see you later," Harry said quietly.

They would. Louis was only moving out -- no big deal. He would still see Harry for lunch later. Oh God, this really was a big deal, wasn't it? When had it become such a big deal? Why did leaving this flat break his heart? It really shouldn't.

Louis managed a short nod, as he picked up his bag.

"I..." Harry pressed his lips together and Louis forced himself to keep his eyes on him, his curls were messy, his skin pale and smooth in the soft morning light. He had goose pimples all over his arms and torso and Louis really felt like he should pull him in, until Harry would be soft and warm again, as he had been when he had woken up in Louis' arms.

"I'll miss you, Lou."

And that was mean, so mean, because Louis was already missing Harry. He was perfect and sweet and everything Louis ever wanted and he couldn't have him, could only be his goddamn friend, when he wanted to wake up like he did this morning every fucking day. Maybe just with the difference of being able to take advantage of Harry being cosy and warm in his arms and getting him off, licking his skin and---

Harry was so close suddenly and Louis' breath hitched, as Harry's arms came around his neck and pulled him close. He closed his eyes and breathed in Harry's scent, memorised the way his curls tickled Louis' cheeks and his naked skin felt under Louis' hands.

"You can come visit any time, yeah?" Harry said quietly into his neck and Louis managed a nod, although he knew it was a lie. He would never come see Harry again. He had to make sure he wouldn't meet Harry alone again -- it was the only right thing to do.

Harry stepped back and withdrew his arms from Louis' shoulders, managed a smile, as he licked his lips. Louis couldn’t help but stare at the motion.

"See you later, Louis," Harry said, ever so soft and quiet.

"See you later," Louis answered and he had never been at a loss for words, but he was now. He always had something clever to say, some sarcastic remark to lighten the mood, but he didn't have any that moment. "Take care, Haz."

Harry nodded and suddenly, he was back in Louis' space again and Louis really couldn't grasp what was going on, even though everything happened in slow motion. Harry didn't touch him at all, but their eyes were locked and Louis knew what was coming, but couldn't do a single thing about it. He was frozen and lost in the green of Harry's eyes.

He didn't close them, when Harry's lips touched his, and Harry didn't close his, either. He kept staring into Louis', as his lips gently, tentatively moved, trapped Louis' between them. It was nothing much, just a small brush, a shy sweep of flesh against flesh.

And then Harry's tongue ran over Louis' bottom lip and Louis' lashes fluttered, before he closed his eyes and slightly opened his mouth to suck Harry's lip between his. Harry dragged his teeth over Louis' lips and tilted his head for a better angle, before his tongue darted out again, in the same moment as Louis' and they nudged together.

In that moment, Louis shut out everything else and allowed himself to just sink into the kiss.

Louis let Harry take control of it, let him lead the kiss and returned only as much as Harry gave. Harry nipped at his bottom lip, tilted his head and slowly brushed his lips against Louis' again, repeated the movement.

Louis took his time, moved his hands up to cup Harry's face, then he tugged with his teeth, before he licked. He got a sigh, a very faint sigh as an answer, but it was enough to drive him further. In the same slow pace and gentleness, he deepened the kiss, explored hesitantly, took as much as he gave.

Harry's hands found his hips and settled over the waistline of Louis' jeans, slipped beneath the jumper to brush skin and hold on. He sighed into Louis' mouth, as he leaned further into him, licked into Louis' mouth and Louis saw stars exploding behind his eyelids.

It was exactly what he had imagined it to be like and even more. Harry kissed as slow and languid as he talked and with the same force and concentration that he sported when he cooked. He tasted of bacon and minty toothpaste and something that probably was just Harry -- like snow and cherries and children’s bubblegum. Louis moved his hands from Harry's face into his curls, gripped them tightly, as he opened his mouth to meet Harry's tongue and the noise that escaped him was definitely filthy.

His hands travelled further down, over Harry's shoulders, fingertips lightly brushing his elbows, before Louis settled his hands over Harry's and uncurled his fingers from around Louis' waist. His fingers slid in between the gaps of Harry's and he laced them gently, lazy, until his palms were against Harry's.

Harry held on while he bit Louis' bottom lip, soothed it with a swipe of his tongue afterwards. Louis drew back gently, let the kiss spin out to soft pecks and nips, before he finally stepped back and opened his eyes.

Harry stared back at him with hazy eyes, clouded with want and desire and all those things Louis couldn't read, as he had never seen Harry's eyes quite like that before. He wanted to make a kinky or sarcastic remark, but it didn't come. Louis didn't trust his voice at the moment.

He untangled his fingers from Harry's and slowly turned to pick up his bag that he had dropped throughout the kiss. He didn't look at Harry again as he opened the door and left the flat.

Louis’ heart threatened to explode in his chest any moment now and his feet felt numb, his lips heated and on fire. His hands were cold and every single cell in his body had probably just turned upside down.

Louis could still taste Harry on his tongue.

Only when he stepped out of the building and into broad daylight, greeted by a warm spring sun, did Louis suddenly start running. He ran and ran, not really sure where to, just away from Harry. He had to get away from Harry as fast as he could, as quickly as possible. He didn't even know why, because for a short, blissful moment Louis had wanted to believe in perfection.

Harry certainly kept messing with his head, even after Louis had finally broken free from him. With just a single kiss had Harry reminded him that it wasn't all that easy.

Without a doubt, it had been the most perfect kiss in Louis’ entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! ♥


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Urgh. This took me quite a while. I'm so sorry. I hope there are even still people eager to read the ending for this! 
> 
> Please enjoy ♥

Louis knew Zayn wouldn't keep quiet for much longer.

It had been three weeks since he’d moved out from Harry's flat and since then, he had successfully avoided meeting Harry again. Each Thursday, Louis came up with a story for Zayn why he couldn't come to lunch with him. For any other occasion, he pretended to be somewhere else already, having paper to write, a homework to hand in the next day or being out with other friends.

This time, however, he wouldn't find a way out of it. Zayn was sitting next to him, expression stern and concerned at the same time, with his arms crossed.

"I really don't know if you get the concept of friendship, but what you're doing is strictly going against it."

Louis rolled his eyes. "We've just been out for lunch on Monday, haven't we? I'm sorry I can't meet you guys every day."

"That's not the point. I'm not asking you to meet us every day," Zayn answered. "I'm not stupid, Louis. You decline each time Harry's coming along, too."

"That's a coincidence," Louis blocked up Zayn's implication.

"Louis."

"What?" He got to his feet and gripped his bag. "I have just already made plans for Friday night."

"No, you haven't. You just don't want to come along, because Harry will be there, too." Zayn rose, too, getting in Louis' way to leave the room. They had stayed back after class, when everyone else had left and were all alone in the small seminar room now. Until the next class would start and other students would stroll in. Which was hopefully soon. Louis really didn't want the discussion that had just started.

"I don't get why you want to spend the night with your friends, anyway," he argued to distract Zayn from the original topic. "It's your anniversary, Zayn. Shouldn't you, like, take Liam out to some posh restaurant and be all lovey-dovey, kiss over a romantic candlelight dinner and shag all night?"

Zayn smirked. "We'll have that on Thursday; our actual anniversary. On Friday, we'd like to celebrate it with our closest friends."

"Since when have Niall and I moved up to the 'closest friends' range?"

"I can't really say how Niall made it," Zayn answered and shrugged. "But you definitely made it the night Liam and I had sex in your bed."

Louis cringed at that and let go of a moan. "No, please, I really never wanted confirmation to that."

"You never slept in that bed, anyway." Zayn lifted a brow. "As far as I know you spent your nights in Harry's bed."

Frowning, Louis eyed the door, trying to work out how he could get past Zayn and out there. "He often enough slept in my bed, too."

"Point is," Zayn reminded him, "that you guys shared a bed."

"None of your business, Zayn."

"Louis," Zayn said again and his tone got very serious. "You do know that he likes you, don't you?"

"Obviously," Louis answered and he really didn't like where this conversation was leading. "We're friends."

"Not like that. He _likes_ you."

Anger built up in Louis' chest. "You're an arse, Zayn."

Zayn pouted. "What?"

"If I hadn't figured that much for myself, it would have been very mean of you to break the news to me like this." Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Louis stared him down. “It’s not your place to tell me.”

A guilty look spread over Zayn's face. "Yeah. I guess you're right. Sorry. But," he added and gave Louis a hopeful look, "you said you had figured as much for yourself already."

"I'm not dumb, Zayn," Louis answered. "I can tell that he is attracted. Point is, though, he doesn't _want_ to be attracted."

"He probably just hasn't figured." Zayn shrugged. "You like him a lot, don't you?"

Louis honestly hated how much that sounded like they were seventeen and Harry was simply a crush. It was so much more and also, a lot more complicated. "I do," he answered eventually. "And I did like him from the very beginning. Hell, I guess you of all people remember best that I wanted to shag him from when I first saw him."

Zayn had a small smile for that. "Yeah, I do. So, why exactly did you guys just shag and parted ways like that, when obviously you like each other?"

"I really don't want to have this conversation," Louis answered and tried to get past Zayn again, but Zayn stopped him, a hand curled around Louis' biceps, keeping him in place.

"I'm not letting you off the hook, Lou."

"Fuck you," Louis retorted and he freed his arm from the grip, but didn't make to leave anymore. This really was none of Zayn's business and Louis didn't quite see why the humiliating truth was so important to him. "I have honestly no idea why you assume Harry and I had sex."

Zayn frowned. "What, wait." His face fell, his mouth gaping. "You didn't?"

"We did once," Louis admitted. "It was just one time."

Zayn still just stared at him in disbelief.

"This really doesn't concern you, but if you must know," Louis told him and let go of his breath, "he turned me down."

"He did what?" Zayn made a step towards Louis. "When? Why?"

"Be any more curious, would you?" Louis snorted humourlessly. "Listen, I get that he likes me, in a way, and he definitely is attracted to me. Now, with some distance, I can even say that he acted quite possessive over me." Admitting to that actually hurt and Louis hated when it hurt. No one was supposed to have the power to hurt him. Especially not Harry Styles who had managed to get a hold of Louis' heart without even giving his to Louis in return. And that was how it usually worked, didn't it? You fell in love, you got together, shared a beautiful time, all clichés included, and got your heart broken, when one would decide they had enough.

It was not fair Louis had gotten his heart broken without getting any of the nice time prior.

"I'm sure he never meant to and he's a lovely guy and all, but he did play hot and cold with me and I've had enough." Louis shrugged. "I'm not having any more of that shit."

Zayn just stared at him for a moment. "There was nothing going on between you?" Apparently, he couldn't quite believe it.

Louis shook his head. "Look, I never stopped him, when he crossed the friendship line. But, each time, afterwards, he told me the same damn thing -- that we're friends and that I am not his type. He definitely was attracted and he did give in to it. But, he had three months to change his mind about really wanting to be with me. Three months in which we've been together every day." Louis shrugged again and now that he had said all of it, it suddenly felt so real. There really was no hope left for him and Harry. Whatever had been going on, it wouldn't work out anymore, it had gone on for way too long to develop into anything more at this rate. "He didn't change his mind during those, so I doubt there's anything to expect now."

He hated to see the pity in Zayn's face, the sympathy written all over his face.

"Don't look at me like that, Malik," Louis groaned and rolled his eyes. "It's not like he's the love of my life and I'm all heartbroken about it and have to cry myself to sleep at night." Oh God, why did that feel like he was lying? Louis _did not_ cry over Harry -- not until today. He would probably just do that, when he’d get home tonight.

"Well, it's just..." Zayn shrugged. "I'm sorry? I can only imagine what it's like, having Liam act around me like that, without actually--- well, being with me? I guess?"

"Harry and I are nothing like you and Liam," Louis answered, keeping his tone indifferent. "You guys actually love each other. For Harry and me, there was never love involved."

Lies, lies, lies. He had fallen so hard for Harry, Louis didn't think he would ever fall out of love with him. He just had to work on it, get over it and distract himself from the memories. Memories that weren’t even those of a lovely relationship. They were all just memories of a torturing unrequited love.

"Then," Zayn said and his voice was lighter again, his expression cheeky, "Friday shouldn't be a problem."

Well, what was a better distraction than going out, get drunk and probably get laid? He could just ignore the fact that Harry would be there, as well.

Louis nodded in defeat and lifted his hands, as the first students came strolling into the room. "Yeah, okay. Wouldn't want to disappoint you and Liam."

Zayn grinned and put his hand to Louis' shoulder as he led him out of the room.

"Glad I could convince you."

 

+++

 

It hadn't been a great idea, after all.

They met up in Liam and Zayn's flat for drinks, before hitting the _Suicide Note_ and Louis already regretted the decision to tag along, when Harry entered the flat, followed by Niall.

He looked way too fit in his tight jeans and black shirt, buttoned up to his collar. His hair had gotten slightly longer and he wore it differently. His fringe wasn't falling over his forehead anymore, he had somehow managed to style it into a quiff. Or something alike.

In any case, Louis just needed one single look at his face, those green eyes and pink lips to regret the decision.

He wanted to kiss Harry again. Louis desperately wanted to haul him in and onto the sofa and peel him out of his ridiculous tight clothes and get another shot at tasting those lips.

Shit, he wasn't over Harry in the slightest bit. If anything, it had gotten worse.

"Hey, Lou," Harry greeted him, oddly quiet and Louis thought that he really shouldn't be allowed to call him nicknames. It did funny things to Louis' organs. Going by the feeling in his belly, his liver had probably just burst.

"Hi," he answered with a tight smile and tried to avoid any eye contact.

Niall shot a glance from Louis to Harry and back, put beer to the table and disappeared to the kitchen, where Liam and Zayn were.

Louis would definitely pay Niall back for abandoning him like that. He'd better be prepared.

"How have you been?" Harry asked, as he sat down on the sofa.

Louis shrugged and flopped down on the armchair, trying to come across as casual as possible. "As usual. You?"

Harry smiled. "Same."

They both fell silent and Louis thought that nothing had ever felt as awkward as this. He had to think of snogging Harry every single time he so much as glanced at him and that really didn't help. Averting his gaze to his hands, he found that he didn't actually have to look at Harry to think of snogging him. His sheer presence was making every of Louis' cells long for him.

"How is the new flat?" Harry asked, obviously keen on keeping up the conversation.

"It's nice. I have plenty space now, which is pretty cool. And the balcony is really cool. I always wanted one. Zayn's all jealous about it." He paused, knew he was blabbering, but couldn't really stop. "You know, because he smokes."

"And Liam doesn't let me smoke in the flat," Zayn added, as he came into the living room, a bottle of beer in his hand. "He's a snob."

Liam, who was behind him, gave an ironic snort. "I remember you used to go outside for a smoke, when you still lived alone." He sat down next to Harry and threw an arm over the backrest of the sofa, handing him a beer.

Niall came in last, two beers in one hand, the other holding Woodstock against his chest. He gave one of the beers to Louis and dropped onto the couch next to Liam. "I remember that each time, Zayn's at mine, he doesn't even bother to open the window before he gets out his fags."

Harry snickered, as Zayn crouched down in front of him to sit on the floor. "And there, Liam never says a word."

"It's not my flat, is it?" Liam shrugged and nudged Zayn's bum with his foot. Zayn glanced up at him with a grin.

"To Zayn and Liam," Niall said and raised his bottle.

"To Zayn and Liam," Harry repeated, mirroring the motion.

"To Zayn and Liam," Louis added, "who don't need a legal certificate to act like a married couple."

They all burst out laughing at that and within the next few hours, Louis lost track of time and count of drinks. He emptied several bottles of beer, before Niall got out a bottle of whiskey. Harry and Zayn drank some odd vodka mix and Louis snatched Zayn's glass several times.

It helped him loosen up and relax around Harry. The awkwardness that had settled between them in the beginning slowly faded and their usual interactions of sarcastic banter and smart teasing returned. But, it also made him careless, too. It didn’t take too long, before he was suddenly next to Harry and Harry's hand casually came to rest on Louis' thigh. Louis frowned at that and wondered, when exactly that had happened. He couldn't bring himself to remove Harry's hand, though.

He really was sure Harry didn't do any of it on purpose, but Louis was afraid that game of hot and cold that he had told Zayn he wouldn't play anymore had just started into another round. Harry did it without even noticing, apparently. When Niall tickled him, he turned to Louis and curled up against him, his laughter warm and bubbling against Louis' chest and hands firm and soft over Louis' waist.

Louis wanted to slip his own under Harry's shirt.

Catching Zayn's look, Louis brought his hands up to Harry's shoulders and gently pushed him off, leaning forward to take his glass from the table and empty the bit that was left. He could feel Zayn's eyes on him, but refused to look back.

+++

 

The train was not particularly crowded, when they got in. It was the last train, though and more crowded than it should have been in the middle of the night; lots of people were catching the last one.

Harry leaned against the door as it closed and Niall was next to him. Liam and Zayn were across from Niall, Zayn's arm firm around Liam's waist and Louis stood across from Harry, holding on to one of the poles. Telling a story, Niall's voice was already strangely slurred and a bit too loud, but Harry's attention was fixed on Louis.

He looked delicate, to say the least. It had been the first thing to strike Harry when he had seen Louis back in Zayn and Liam's flat this evening after three weeks. Something about him was just so delicate and soft that Harry wanted to scoop him in and dig his fingers into Louis' skin and burrow his face in the curve of Louis' neck. He'd feel just as soft.

Harry knew. He knew Louis would feel delicate and soft in his arms, pliant and yielding, just as it had felt each time Harry had held him in his sleep.

At the next stop, more people got in and Harry moved away from the door, they all moved in closer and he reached out his hand over his head to grip one of the handrails there. It still wasn't crowded, but Harry didn't really care to step back, as he leaned in to Louis, swaying slightly. He probably should have, but Louis' hair smelled quite nice, still of the same shampoo that he had left at the flat. And even if they weren't touching at all, Harry could feel his body heat.

Louis had his back to Harry and talked to Zayn, apparently not even noticing Harry behind him. He kept on chatting, teased Niall and laughed about something Liam said. Then, he craned his neck to look at Harry.

"Are you alright, mate?" Niall asked. "You've been pretty quiet."

Harry grinned at him and nodded, while Louis turned his body to let Harry into their circle. He didn't really want to move from behind Louis, but he figured he didn't have much of a choice. The train took a sharp turn in that moment and Harry lost his balance, tripping over his own feet.

He got caught by a strong hand curling around his biceps, steadying him on his feet. Looking up, he found Louis close to him, holding on and giving him a keen look. It was strange; Louis was so small and he seemed delicate and soft and yet, apparently effortlessly, he showed a naturally masculine strength. Like this, using only one hand to hold Harry up.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled and gripped the pole.

Louis nodded and seemed hesitant, before he pulled his hand away.

Harry frowned and watched him for a moment longer. This could have gone completely different. He could have tripped into Louis' arms and then he would have just remained right there, as he was just too drunk to keep his balance in a moving train. Or, he could have stumbled into Louis, accidentally crushing their lips together and leaning into him for support. It would have been a perfect excuse to start making out.

Harry furrowed his brows and looked down at his shoes.

Why exactly did that thought cross his mind now? He liked being close to Louis and being close, subtle touches and physical acknowledgement was just part of their friendship. It had always been like that.

Kissing and making out, however, was out of that range. They had established that the night after they had sex.

The kiss--- Harry lost the thought, as he swallowed thickly and shifted closer to Louis again, listening to his laugh, his scratchy voice, smoothed by the alcohol.

The kiss had been a slip. Harry had just been overtaken by his emotions. He had been sad for Louis leaving the flat. Of course he had been sad. Louis was his friend and Louis had been a good flatmate. Letting go of something like that was just sad and would have left anyone unsettled.

The kiss had been a slip.

He was shaken out of his thoughts, when they had to get off the train and a strange feeling settled in his stomach, as he set foot into the _Suicide Note_ a few minutes later. He had only come here for work for such a long time. It felt weird to come here as a customer.

"Can Harry fiddle out free drinks for us?" Niall asked and poked his rips.

Harry shrugged, as he buried his hands in his pockets. "I can try." He took off to the bar and Zayn followed him, while the other three stayed back and slid into a booth.

"Hey, Harry!" Martin greeted him. he had been working here for much longer than Harry and they had often had shifts together. "Alright, mate?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, doing good. You?"

"Not too bad. Same old," he answered and winked. "How is the new job going?"

"Pretty good. It's fun. I never work after eight and I get to take home leftover pastries and sweet stuff every day."

"Sounds better than this." Martin sighed and shrugged. He looked at Zayn. "Anyway. You're Liam's boy, aren't you?"

Zayn grinned and nodded. "He's over there with a couple of friends."

"Well then. This round's on me. What are you guys having?"

"Thanks, man." Harry ordered their drinks and glanced back over his shoulder, as Martin prepared them, catching sight of Louis next to Niall, talking.

"Haz," Zayn said from beside him and he turned back. "Are you alright?"

Harry frowned. "I didn't have that much, Zayn."

"Not about the alcohol," Zayn clarified. "About Louis."

Blinking, Harry tilted his head, "About Louis? What wouldn't be alright there?"

Zayn shrugged. "I don't know. But, since he moved out, you guys didn't seem to have kept contact."

That was true. But, Louis moving out had ended with that kiss and Harry hadn't known how to act or what to say and apparently, Louis had needed some time, too. That was all. From now on, things would be back to normal between them.

"I guess we were both just too busy," he answered instead.

Zayn nodded, his expression a little tense and turned back to Martin, as he put five glasses in front of them.

"Thanks, mate," Harry said and picked up three to carry them back to the table. He slid into the booth next to Niall and as he looked at Louis on Niall's other side and got a small smile, he decided that he was right.

Things would be back to normal between them from now on.

+++

Nothing was back to normal.

Since their night out for Liam and Zayn's anniversary two weeks ago, Harry hadn't heard from Louis even once. Louis hadn't texted, hadn't called and never showed up, when Harry met with the other boys.

Zayn usually knew what Louis was up to from meeting him in class and told them that Louis had excused himself because of another meeting, homework, friends or work (and since when did he actually have a job?).

That night, the five of them had stuck together, none of them had ended up with someone else for the night and Harry was grateful it had spun out like that. He had been approached by a girl, but had easily shaken her off his heels. Other than that, there had been no intruders to their friendship quality time that night.

The night had been about Liam and Zayn, after all and Niall, Louis and Harry had not needed to talk about it to agree that it wouldn't turn to be about anything other than that.

Harry opened the door to his flat and as he was greeted by a dark and cold silence, he once again thought how much he hated living alone. He had never really known before, but now that Louis had moved out and he lived all by himself again, he realised that he really didn't like it.

The thing was, if he was all honest with himself, the problem wasn't living alone. He could easily rent the spare room out to someone and get over with it. The problem was that Harry didn't like living without Louis.

He missed Louis. His smell and his things scattered across the whole flat, the biscuit crumbs on the floor, his laugh and his warmth next to Harry, when he'd come home and Louis would make space for Harry to snuggle up to him on the sofa.

Harry had had people come over to look at the room. There were plenty people who needed a room and Harry actually did need the money, but eventually, he always decided against them. Liam and Zayn often came to support Harry in his decision, when he had someone over to apply as a potential flatmate. They had never objected, when Harry had made up ridiculous reasons why he couldn't let any of those people move in.

And Harry would only let someone move in who Liam and Zayn approved of, too.

More than a month had passed in the blink of an eye and Harry had seen Louis only once, since he had moved out. His flat was just around the corner from Harry's new workplace, but Louis had not yet showed up there. He also didn't show up for Thursday lunches anymore, Niall came around every week and Zayn told them each time that Louis had said he was busy and couldn't make it.

Harry should not have kissed him.

It had been a mistake, a terrible, stupid mistake and he had known it the second it had happened. But Harry could not have resisted; he had really wanted to do it. Unfortunately, it had driven Louis even farther away from him.

There was only so much a friend could take and Louis had handled it so well, when Harry had lost his mind that one night -- Louis had never resented him for what had happened. But kissing him had probably been a bit too much. There were boundaries within a friendship and Harry had overstepped them more than once. Of course Louis would have distanced himself.

Louis had wanted to be his friend and Harry had crept him out by pushing it too far.

Sighing, Harry stepped into the shower. He had just come back home from work and it was almost nine. He would have a late dinner and just hit the sack; try and sleep it all off. He reached for the shampoo and held it over his hand to squeeze some onto his palm. The bottle made a funny noise, but nothing came out of it. Harry shook it, but still, nothing.

For a few heartbeats, he just stood there, water drenching his hair, hot steam enveloping his skin and his eyes fixed on the bottle of shampoo. Then, he slowly turned off the shower and grabbed a towel. He wound it around his hips and didn't bother to actually dry himself off, the bottle of shampoo still in his hands.

Harry left his flat like that and dashed downstairs, rapidly rang the bell to Liam's and Zayn's flat over and over again.

Liam opened and his eyes got round. "Harry?"

"The shampoo's empty," Harry said, voice toneless and slightly shaky.

Liam frowned and stepped aside, so Harry could come in. "Well. Yeah, that's a problem."

"It's empty," Harry repeated.

"I'm sure we have some spare shampoo I can give you," Liam said. He looked confused, as he closed the door. "It's not like the world's going to end, Harry."

Harry stared at the bottle in his hand and back at Liam who came from their bathroom, a bottle of shampoo in his hand.

"There you go," Liam said cheerfully and handed Harry the bottle.

"Liam," Harry choked out and suddenly, his throat felt so tight and his hands so cold and the water on his skin made him freeze. "Liam, Louis is gone."

For a moment, silence settled between them and Liam just stared at Harry, while Harry stared back with dull eyes. Liam's shoulders dropped and he let go of a sigh, before he pulled Harry into a hug.

"Oh, Harry," he murmured. "Did you really just realise now?"

Harry buried his face against Liam's shoulder and shrugged. Water was dripping from his air into Liam’s shirt. "There's nothing of him left. The shampoo is empty."

Liam laughed gently and patted Harry's back, before he pulled him over to the living room, where he sat Harry down on the sofa. Woodstock came from the other side of the room, where he had been lying in a dog basket and tugged Harry's toes with his teeth. Harry bent down to pat the dog's head and Liam disappeared, before he came back with sweatpants and a t-shirt that he threw at Harry.

"Better get dressed," he said and left the room again.

Harry obeyed and slid into the clothes, while Liam was gone again. It was a nice feeling to be able to come here at any time and someone would always be there for him. Woodstock now nibbled at Harry's toes, but he didn't really care. Liam came back with two cups of tea and placed them on the table, before he sat down next to Harry.

"Woody, basket," Liam said to the dog and Woodstock obeyed, strolled back over to his basket. Harry watched the dog lie down and curl up on a cushion, before he gave Liam an appreciative look.

Liam smiled sheepishly. "We've been training him. Zayn said if we keep him in the flat, he has to listen to every order."

Smiling, Harry curled his hands around his tea cup. "Can you train him to play dead?"

For a moment, it was silent. Then, Liam called the dog back over and extended his hand at him, forming a gun with his fingers. "Peng!" he said loudly and the dog dropped at once, rolling to his back.

Harry laughed, almost spilled some tea.

"It's the first thing I trained him to do," Liam admitted. "It's the coolest."

"Definitely," Harry agreed and bent down again to caress Woodstock's belly. "Yeah, you're a good boy, aren't you?"

"Harry," Liam asked carefully, as Harry rose again and Woodstock rolled up to Liam's feet. "What's going on with you and Louis? Zayn and I have been worried about you two. But Louis won't say what's actually going on."

"Wait," Harry said and frowned. "You met Louis?"

Liam shrugged. "Zayn sees him in class and... yeah, he does agree to come along, when he knows you won't be there."

Harry tried to ignore the stinging pain in his chest. Louis really did avoid him on purpose. It was a realisation that hurt quite a bit. "You do realise how childish that sounds?"

"I do realise," Liam agreed, "how childish that actually _is_. But there has to be a reason for him to act like a child and for you to freak out over an empty shampoo bottle, Harry."

"I didn't freak out," Harry argued.

"You just knocked my door, soaked and in nothing but a towel, Harry. I'd say you pretty much freaked out."

Harry didn't answer that and kept staring into his tea cup. The steam had dissolved into the air, the porcelain barely still warmed Harry's hands. "Do you remember how I told you Louis was not my type, before he moved in?"

Liam nodded. "Well, you've changed your mind fairly quickly after that."

Okay, that had been unexpected. Harry turned his head to stare at Liam and he really had no idea what to answer. Had he really been so obvious? Had everyone else but him noticed how he had fallen for Louis?

Liam's expression turned and his face knit up in worry. "Okay, you only just realised that as well?"

Harry shrugged. "I..." He cleared his throat, put the cup back to the table, his hands slightly shaky. "I guess I pretty much fucked it up, Liam."

Liam shifted closer and put a hand to Harry's shoulder. "No, come on. Whatever happened, you can sort it out. I'm sure."

"I snogged him," Harry blurted out and stared at Liam to closely observe his reaction.

Liam didn't react at all for a second and then, he .... smiled. He _smiled_. "Well, I thought so, Harry. You guys have been all over each other from the very beginning."

"But..." Why wasn't that a surprise to Liam? Why did he see that much as a given? What had Harry missed out on, when Louis had still been around? "It's not the way you think it was. I might have started it off all wrong."

"How?" Liam gave him a curious look. "Harry, Louis's been just as much into you. I don't see how it could have been wrong."

"I only kissed him the day he moved out," Harry explained and his voice got quieter with every word.

Liam raised a brow. "I don't mean to be nosy, but... I suspected you had been sleeping with him since long before that."

Harry felt a blush creep up his neck and he remembered what Zayn had said in the park. Why had everyone suspected him and Louis to be more than they actually had been? "We didn't. I..." He swallowed thickly and stared at his hands in his lap. "We had sex once. But I was drunk and he was, too. Maybe, a little. And we decided it had been a mistake."

Liam only stared at Harry for a second. "But," he said finally, "you acted like... I don't know. Harry, on your birthday, he got into bed with you like it was just normal. I thought-- I mean, you don't do that with someone you haven't-- or do you? I just assumed..."

Liam's words died and again, they sat in awkward silence. Harry cleared his throat. "We just got really close, I guess? As friends?"

"You've been in his lap every time we watched a movie and every time we met for lunch or dinner," Liam deadpanned. "I didn't have a doubt that something was going on between the two of you."

Harry shrugged. "I didn't think I acted any different around him."

"I thought you acted like a love-struck puppy around him, but... yeah, well." Liam bit his lip, as he glanced at Harry again. "Might have got a few things wrong there."

And was that true? Had Harry really been like that around Louis? "Do you..." He swallowed thickly. "Do you think, I could be--- like, could be... in love with Louis?"

Liam buried his face in his hands for a moment, before he looked back at Harry, his expression clearly troubled. "How am I supposed to know? Do _you_ think you could be in love with Louis?"

"No," Harry instantly answered. He frowned and turned his head. Or could he? He did miss Louis and he had obviously done a few things that made it look as though he was. "I think I do, however, like him more than a friend?" he eventually answered, turning it into a question.

"Tell me," Liam mumbled. "I'd have never figured."

"Liam," Harry said and turned back to him. "I'm serious."

"I get that." Liam took a deep breath. "I just don't get why you're so insistent about not being into him."

"I am not insistent about it. It's reality."

"Well, obviously, reality is you being head over heels for him, Harry," Liam sighed, tone tired. "And you just don't want to admit it."

"We're friends," Harry choked out and he suddenly felt so foolish for saying it, when obviously, it wasn't all there was to it. Louis had probably always been more than a friend. A rush of hot panic shot through his veins and Harry felt his breath hitch, his heart skip a beat and his lips go numb.

He had shared a bed with Louis for more than two months, had held him in his sleep, he had always wanted Louis' whole attention, he had sought out Louis' presence, had always wanted to be close to him, whenever they had been together. Harry had acted like a _jealous boyfriend_ each time Louis had so much as looked at another bloke.

He had _wanted_ Louis the night they had sex. He had been thinking about kissing Louis from the very beginning and if Louis was only a friend, Harry would have never kissed him. But, Harry had kissed him and he had wanted it, had wanted that kiss so badly.

He wanted to kiss Louis again.

"Fuck," he said and his eyes felt sore, as he stared at Liam who gave him a sympathetic look.

"I can't believe you only just realised it now," Liam answered and squeezed Harry's thigh. "You've been so obvious."

Burying his face in his hands, Harry groaned. "Liam, I fucked it up. I completely fucked that up."

"No, come on. You were a bit slow, but I am sure nothing's lost yet."

"I slept with him and then told him, he's not exactly what I'm looking for," Harry protested. "I don't know how that's not lost."

Liam cringed at that, obviously struggling to find the right answer. He got distracted, when the door to the living room opened and Zayn came in. Harry glanced up at him, saw tired eyes and pale skin.

Zayn frowned at them. "What's wrong with Harry?"

"His shampoo is empty," Liam said dryly.

Harry managed a choked laugh and rubbed his hands over his face. "Louis' shampoo is empty."

"Oh," Zayn answered and came over to sit down at Harry's other side. "So, you finally made the conclusions, too."

Great, so Zayn had caught up on what was going on long before him, too. "Did all of you know?" Harry frowned. "You could have said something."

"Well, we thought you knew yourself," Liam said. "How could we have known you're that oblivious?"

"You have to tell him, you know," Zayn said and Harry looked at him, uncertain, so Zayn added, "about all this. You need to sort this out."

"What is there to sort out? We are friends and I fell in love with him." Harry shrugged, fidgeting with the drawstrings of the sweatpants that were definitely Liam's. "I'll freak him out."

"Harry..." Zayn started, but Harry stopped him, raising a hand.

"No, seriously. He's been a really good friend to me. And I did some creepy stuff and yet, he didn't drop me. Well, until I snogged him out of the blue,” he added and ran a hand through his hair, “but I can’t really hold it against him for pulling out after that. I shouldn't make it any worse than it already is."

Zayn stared at him for a second and there was that tension again, but then, he glanced at Liam and his gaze dropped. He nodded. "Yeah. If that's what you think is best."

"I just want him back," Harry said quietly and watched his hands playing with the strings. "I want to be his friend again."

Zayn sighed and pulled him in, bedding Harry's head against his shoulder. "You're still his friend."

"I never hear from him anymore," Harry objected.

Liam ran a hand over Harry's back. "That's something that doesn't only lie with him, Harry. You could call him up, too."

Nodding, Harry nuzzled closer into Zayn's side and Liam grabbed a blanket from the arm of the sofa and sprawled it over the three of them. He could indeed call Louis, but he couldn’t imagine to build up the confidence to do it. What was Harry supposed to say? What if Louis would reject him, without even listening to Harry first?

He couldn’t call. Not after everything he had done to make Louis distance himself.

It was easy to sink into the warmth and comfort of his two best friends. They would always be there and pick him up, even when Harry's world just turned upside down and when he acted like a fool. Zayn and Liam would catch him and be there for him, make things better.

Still, Harry thought, as he closed his eyes and Liam's arm curled around his waist; right now, there was someone he wanted to be with him even more than them.

It was warm and comfortable and familiar and everything Harry needed.

But he wanted all of that from Louis.

+++

 

It was almost eight and Louis had just pulled over a clean black t-shirt, when his doorbell rang. He threw a last glance into the mirror, running his fingertips over the perfectly styled quiff and then, made his way to the door.

Liam and Zayn both beamed at him and Niall was still on the stairs, catching up. He carried a box, wrapped in bright pink and Liam held a bottle of sparkling wine.

Louis lifted a brow. "I thought my secret princess party was only tomorrow and that I hadn't invited anyone else than my sisters," he said.

Zayn grinned. "We know that you have princess parties every day."

"Come in," Louis just answered and stepped aside to let them in. "You guys are first."

"You said eight." Liam frowned slightly.

Louis went ahead into his living room -- his _living room_. He had a living room and a bedroom. Separate. It was what he liked best about his new flat. "When I'm invited at eight, I never show up before nine. It's the same for anyone else in the world. Except you, Liam."

Zayn, Liam and Niall had been over before, so Louis didn't have to show them around. They had talked him into throwing a house-warming party and he had ended up inviting a zillion people. Louis hoped not everyone would decide to come. It could possibly get crowded.

"Okay, so what's in the pink box?"

"Your house-warming gift," Niall answered, as he sat down on Louis' sofa. He put it to the table and gestured for Louis to open it.

"How did I ever think a house-warming party was a bad idea? I didn't know I'd get gifts. Is everyone bringing gifts?" If that was the case, he actually did want all of the zillion people to show up.

"Most of them will bring a gift in the form of alcohol," Zayn answered and tipped his fingers against the bottle Liam had put next to the box. "But we thought, since we're best mates and all, we should bring something more. Something useful."

"Something useful?" Louis pulled the box closer and eyed it curiously. "If it's anything for my kitchen, you guys have a chance of taking it and exchange it for something actually useful right now. Like a fancy Facebook mirror or a padded bird to put on the balcony."

Niall laughed. "Very useful. And too expensive. We're not _that_ good mates."

Louis frowned. "A minute ago we were _best_ mates."

"That's why we knew exactly what you'd need and wouldn't yet have," Zayn clarified.

Carefully, Louis removed the cover of the box and threw one look inside, before he closed it again and lifted a brow.

"Something useful," Liam repeated.

"Cleaning stuff?" Louis whined. "Seriously?"

"So you can't excuse yourself saying you didn't have the necessary equipment to clean." Niall looked smug about it and Louis kicked his shin.

"I want the padded bird instead!"

"Someone else is getting you that one, probably," Liam assured him and went to the kitchen to get them drinks.

Louis grinned to himself as he put the pink box to the small table next to his telly and made sure that none of the other boys would see his fond expression. How had they even got that idea? As if he'd needed anyone to remind him of cleaning. He had spent several hours cleaning today and if anyone would complain about his flat not being clean enough tonight, they could kindly leave and fuck off.

A mere two hours later, Louis wondered why exactly he had bothered to clean in the first place. His flat was crowded with people spilling drinks to his floor, wiping greasy fingers against his sofa and wearing dirty boots. He would spend years to get his flat clean again after this.

During the last hour, he had spotted a few people he didn't even know and reasoned that to telling everyone to bring friends if they wanted.

Niall had put up his laptop and music played, drowned out the conversations. Louis peered into the living room from his kitchen, where people had put food they had brought and poured drinks from all the different bottles collected on his table.

Aiden and Matt had just arrived and Greg was next to him, telling a funny story from his job at the campus radio station. Vaguely, Louis made out the door bell over the loud noises and excused himself to open for whoever was late to the party.

He was still chuckling over what Greg had said about Taylor Swift, when he saw Harry in front of his door and froze, his chuckle dying in his throat.

"Hi," Harry greeted him with a sheepish smile.

Louis stared at him. "Hi," he said back. He hadn't invited Harry -- hadn't invited Harry on purpose. So, why was Harry here, standing in front of Louis' door, looking lovely, a box wrapped in pink, just as the one Niall had carried earlier.

Niall. The actual bastard. Louis was certain he was to be held responsible for Harry showing up.

"I'm..." Harry started, but fell silent again. He shrugged. "Niall said I should come by all means."

"Yeah, cool," Louis said and remembered that he actually had to let Harry in. He took a step aside and Harry walked past him, his scent filling Louis instantly. He smelled of shampoo and soap and detergent, as well as sweet cake. He smelled so much like _Harry_ , just as Louis remembered, just maybe a little sweeter.

"I had work until eight and went home to change and get your present," Harry explained, as if he could read Louis' thoughts. "Sorry for being late."

"Not at all," Louis answered. "I'm happy you could make it."

Harry gave him a short glance, as he slipped out of his light coat and put it on top of the jackets that had piled there. For a moment he held Louis eyes, before he looked away again.

Yes, okay, that had been a lie and Harry was just as aware of it as Louis was. After all, Harry had not been invited.

Why was he still here? Didn't that boy have any dignity? Louis wanted to swear.

"It's a house-warming gift," Harry said and held out the box. It was almost as big as the one he had gotten from the other lads.

"Thanks." Louis took it and managed a smile. He loved receiving gifts, but strangely enough, he couldn't get excited about this. He was even afraid to open it.

"You don't have to open it now," Harry reassured him, as if he noticed Louis being hesitant. "I mean, it's nothing special and you probably can't even use it. But I kind of had to think of you, when I saw it and thought it would make a nice house-warming gift. But, just--- if you don't like it, that's okay."

Louis glanced up at Harry and nodded shortly. "I'll open it later, when there aren't so many people anymore."

For a moment, silence settled, which was odd, because there was so much noise in the flat.

"Louis," Harry said then, tone desperate.

"When there are less people," Louis repeated. "Let's not talk now." He had no idea what it was, but Harry looked so serious, his eyebrows knitted and his lips formed a hard line. Louis really didn't think he could take explaining right now why he had redlined Harry.

Harry lowered his look, obviously troubled, but he nodded.

"Harry!" Niall appeared in the corridor and threw his arms around Harry's chest from behind. "Glad you could make it, mate."

Harry smiled and turned to him to return the hug.

"Come on, we'll get you a drink," Niall exclaimed and dragged Harry along to the kitchen.

Louis took a deep breath and went to the living room to put down the box. He saw Zayn on the balcony, the door open, letting in some fresh air into the overheated living room. Zayn caught his eye and raised a brow. Maybe he could read Louis' expression too.

Louis put down the gift and went out to join Zayn. A girl from his drama class was there, too, but she was too engaged in a telephone call to pay attention to them. It had long turned dark outside and Louis felt a little chilly in just his t-shirt.

"You guys told Harry to come," Louis said and leaned against the railing.

Recognition lit up in Zayn's face. "We weren't sure, if he really would, though."

"Well, he just arrived," Louis informed him.

Zayn took another drag from his cigarette. It lit up in the dark. "You said we could bring friends, if we like. And we liked to bring Harry."

"You guys know that if I had wanted him to come, I would have invited him myself, don't you?" Louis crossed his arms.

"You're a dick, Louis," Zayn told him and dropped his fag. "You know how he gets; looking all like a wounded puppy. He was really troubled, when he found out you hadn't bothered to invite him along."

"He's not five," Louis countered.

"No, he isn't. And you're not, either. Just to remind you." Zayn looked into the room and Louis followed his line of view, saw Liam put an arm around Harry's shoulders and say something into his ear. "You're being nasty with him."

"Excuse me?" Louis tore his look away from Harry's troubled expression.

"He cares about you, Louis and he doesn't understand why you push him away like you do. Get it sorted, be honest with him. This really can't go on." Zayn pushed himself off the railing and went back in. Louis watched him greet Harry, pulling him into his arms.

Great. Now it was Louis' fault. Harry had been the one playing with him, hadn't he? Why was it all Louis' fault now? Why was he the bad one?

Fuck, that really wasn't fair. He had just wanted to spend a nice night with his friends and instead, he had to worry about Harry now. As if he enjoyed seeing Harry so down, knowing it was his fault. He was the last one to take that and not beat himself up over it.

It was fucking unfair. He had no idea what to do or how to go on from here on.

Louis definitely needed another drink.

 

+++

 

Nothing really helped, though, as Louis had to find several hours later. He had had a few drinks throughout the night with basically every person who had come and yet, he felt disappointingly sober.

It was difficult to be completely loose, as long as Harry was around. Louis had a feeling he better didn't let his guard down. Harry used to be handsy when drunk and Louis couldn't risk getting handsy with him. That would lead to him losing his patience and willpower and eventually, he would end up dragging Harry into his bedroom and taking advantage of his drunken state.

Frowning, Louis turned from the front door he had closed after a few of his friends had left. He was at least tipsy, or else these thoughts would not have even crossed his mind right now.

It was nothing but frustrating. _Harry_ was nothing but frustrating.

Louis went back to his living room, where now, only a small group of people was still left. Niall had spread across the carpet, a lollipop in his mouth, Aiden and Matt were occupying Louis' armchair, which he had bought at a flea market last autumn, and shared a bottle of beer. Zayn was sitting on the end of the sofa that was closest to the door, with Liam between his legs, sitting on the floor. Zayn's hand absently ran through the short, stubby hair Liam had grown out over the past few months, while he talked to Aiden.

Harry was next to Zayn and his eyes were already fixed on Louis, although no one else had taken notice of him yet. Next to him, Greg filled the remaining space on the sofa, apparently engrossed in a conversation with Niall and Liam.

Louis had a few options now. He could just join Liam and Niall on the floor, which would be easiest. He also could just try to squeeze in on the sofa, but being squeezed in anywhere near Harry was probably not helping his case, at all.

Instead, Louis quietly made his way through the room, ignoring Harry's eyes following his every move and stopped right next to Greg.

"You don't mind, do you?" he asked -- the polite kid he was -- and slid down into Greg's lap.

Niall fell silent and Louis caught Liam frowning deeply at him, decided to just ignore that reaction, however. Greg blushed slightly, but his arms automatically came around Louis' waist to steady him.

"I don't actually feel like sitting on the floor," Louis explained and snatched his glass from the table to sip from his drink. Harry had averted his look and seemed deeply concentrated, staring at his nails.

"No, it's fine," Greg said sheepishly and slightly shook his head. His gaze fell onto Harry, just a few short glances, but Louis caught them. And why was everyone -- even Greg who had no connection to him, at all -- so concerned for Harry? They really should be concerned for Louis. He was the one making a fool out of himself right now, after all.

It was pathetic and even more so, because Louis _knew_ it was. 

Harry raised his head again and looked at them for a second and for the first time, Louis saw genuine anger in Harry's eyes. The irritation was still dominant and a look Louis had seen on him several times, but beneath that, there was anger, something that made his lips form a hard line and the green of his eyes a little darker than usual.

Without a word, Harry slid down from the sofa, crouching next to Liam and gestured at the empty space. "I don't mind sitting on the floor," he said and his voice didn't show any of the anger Louis had just read in his eyes.

Harry was a clever bastard, Louis thought, as he slid off of Greg's lap and into the empty space between him and Zayn. He never took any of the shit Louis gave him. Even if he seemed so innocent and foolish, he didn't have any of it. He always knew how to turn things convenient for himself.

That was one of the reasons Louis had fallen for him, after all. He should have known he wouldn't get Harry to change his mind with a cheap trick like that.

However, Harry had proved several times that he was the possessive type and even if he hadn't reacted in the way Louis had hoped he would, his reaction had still confirmed him to be exactly that. He had made sure Louis would get off Greg and closer to Harry -- and both had worked, as Harry was sitting in between Louis' legs now, mirroring the way Zayn and Liam sat.

Louis wanted to kiss him.

That really hadn't gone as planned, at all. As far as Louis had planned any of it, anyway.

For the following hour, he tried to keep his attention off of Harry and was talking to anyone else in the room but him. Matt involved him in a discussion about ManU's upcoming game in the Champion's League and Louis tried to focus on it, when Harry's fingers brushed his ankles, a bony chin rested against his knee for a second and his curls grazed Louis' thighs.

It was fucking distracting and Louis was almost certain that Harry knew exactly what he did to him.

A while later, Harry's head rested permanently against Louis' knee and Liam looked up at him, catching his attention and gesturing at Harry, his expression soft.

"He's asleep," Niall pointed out quietly.

Greg leaned in to peer at him, a gentle smile on his face. "He's been yawning non-stop."

"What a lovely way to let me know my party's been boring," Louis commented dryly.

Zayn chuckled. "Not at all, mate. I think everyone loved it. But I guess at four in the morning, it's just time to end it."

"I'm pretty tired, too," Aiden said. "Guess we'll be off then."

"I can drop you off," Greg offered, as he got up, too. "It's on my way."

Zayn and Liam followed suit and even Niall got up from his lying position. Louis caught Zayn's hand, as he reached out for Harry. He felt all eyes on him and usually, he didn't have a problem being the centre of attention, but this was different.

It felt like admitting, without admitting anything clearly.

"Leave him be," Louis said quietly. He glanced up at Greg who was still just smiling fondly. Matt and Aiden exchanged a look and Niall had that shit-eating grin on his face. Zayn freed his hand from Louis' grip slowly and Liam just looked as serious as he always did. "Better not wake him up."

"He held out longer than I expected," Liam said. "Been working an early and a late shift today, so he's got up in the middle of the night."

"You'll take care of him?" Zayn asked, as he stepped back.

"Yeah," Louis answered and he looked at Harry again, looked at his peaceful expression. Damn him and his angelic looks, Louis thought. He didn't think anyone was immune to that. "Don't worry."

Carefully, he got up, bedding Harry's head against a sofa cushion and followed his friends to the front door to bid them goodbye. Niall hugged him a little longer than usual and Louis just held on, but didn't comment on it. After the door had closed behind them, he lingered in the corridor for a while, shuffling his feet, unsure what to do.

Eventually, he decided that things couldn't be changed anymore and he would just have to see how it would turn out from here. He went back to the living room and found Harry in still the same position he had left him. His lips were slightly opened and his cheek pressed into the cushion, while his upper body heaved with slow, constant breaths.

For a moment, Louis pondered if he should wake Harry up to just get over with it. But then, he remembered what Liam had said and decided to just leave Harry be and postpone the awful talk he had ahead to the morning.

He watched Harry for a little longer, his fingers itching to touch him, push those curls from Harry's face and stroke along his neckline. Instead, Louis kept standing in the doorframe with his arms crossed and just let his eyes roam over Harry's body.

Eventually, he tore his look off of Harry and turned away. He switched off the lights and went to his bedroom to change into pyjama bottoms, before he brushed his teeth and washed his face in the bathroom. Combing out the sticky styling wax from his hair took longer than Louis had patience for at the moment, so he stopped bothering, after he had combed out the quiff.

He would just go to bed and take care of everything else tomorrow. Maybe, when he would get up, Harry would be gone already. There was a possibility that Harry wouldn't want to talk anymore in the morning. Louis stared at his bed in front of him and raised a brow at his own thoughts.

That possibility was rather low.

He kept standing there in his bedroom, looking at his bed and he knew that feeling. He had felt like this before; the night before he had moved out from Harry's. It was the exact same feeling -- something was just wrong about getting into bed alone, while Harry was just there across the floor.

Louis sighed and decided to give in to it, as he gripped his duvet and pulled it off the bed. He was too tired to get into a mental argument with himself now. Turning on his heels, he left his bedroom again and strolled over to the living room.

Harry's position had changed. He was lying on the floor now, the cushion still beneath his cheek and he had curled up. Louis spread his duvet over him and allowed himself to gently run his hand through Harry's curls afterwards. He then climbed over Harry onto the sofa and covered himself with the woollen blanket from his armchair.

He heard Harry sigh sleepily, the duvet rustling, as he moved beneath it and Louis thought that he was really inconsequent and weak when it came to Harry. Apparently, that was something he just couldn't help; not at all.

As much as Louis didn't want to be, he was in love with Harry.

It was the last thing on his mind, before he drifted off to sleep.

 

+++

 

Harry felt extremely overheated, when he woke up. His limbs hurt and his back felt stiff, as he slowly slid into consciousness, so he decided just not to move yet. However, the heat was unbearable, so he didn't have much of a choice.

He pushed the heavy duvet off his body and sat up with a groan, his hip making a cracking sound, as he moved. For a few moments, he didn't have any orientation, didn't recognise the room he was in; then, he turned his head and saw Louis on the sofa, curled up under a woollen blanket and fast asleep.

Harry watched him with tired eyes and lifted the duvet again, pulled it up to his face and buried his nose in the soft fabric. It smelled like Louis and Harry once again realised how much he had missed him.

Missing him or not, the question remained why exactly Harry had slept on the floor and Louis had claimed the sofa. That didn't seem quite fair. He could just take the duvet and join Louis, cuddle up to him and tuck them both in beneath the warm fabric. Or, he could pull Louis down from the sofa and next to himself onto the floor.

Both options would, however, wake Louis up and Harry thought that wasn't quite fair. He quietly got up instead and left the living room on his tiptoes, his limbs all still rather stiff. As soon as he had closed the door behind himself, he stretched and heard every single bone in his body crack.

But Louis had not woken Harry up to throw him out, so the ache in his bones was already worth it.

He went to the kitchen to inspect the chaos there and found that apparently, Louis had at least collected dirty dishes and glasses in his sink. Wandering off to the bathroom, Harry washed his face and ran his hands through his hair to at least sort out the mess a little.

He stared at his own reflection for a while, tired eyes, pale face, hair messy and his shirt wrinkled.

What the hell, he decided and stripped off his clothes, before he stepped into the shower. Hot water ran over his skin and made him at least feel a little better, more alive than he had felt in a while. As he reached for the shampoo and squeezed it onto his hand, he stilled at the familiar scent and a smile spread over his face.

Feeling much better and with only a towel around his hips, he came out of the bathroom and peered into the living room to check on Louis; finding him still asleep.

Louis' bedroom was a mess. Clothes were scattered across the floor, the sheets of his bed wrinkled and tucked off the sites, one pillow in the middle of the bed, another one on the floor. Books were piling on the bedside table.

Harry shook his head slightly, a fond smile on his lips, as he opened the wardrobe and grabbed a t-shirt and jogging bottoms. He pulled both over and the bottoms were too short, but Harry didn't really mind. He opened a few drawers, looking for socks, but couldn't find any.

Also, opening every drawer in Louis' bedroom was probably taking it too far. Harry was sure Louis wouldn't mind him borrowing clothes, but looking through Louis' stuff like this, felt a bit like snooping.

Quietly and on bare feet, Harry left the bedroom again to make breakfast. He didn't find anything to cook in Louis' fridge, however, not even eggs or toast, so he gave up on that idea again. Instead, he switched on the kettle and searched for cups to make tea.

As Louis was still sleeping and Harry didn't have anything better to do, he decided to help Louis out and do some of the cleaning for him. If he left that to Louis, it wouldn't be done by next year, probably, so that wasn't a bad idea.

Anything else Harry could think of doing involved giving Louis a sensual waking, anyway. And Harry really shouldn't even be thinking about that.

Thirty minutes later, he had cleaned the dishes and glasses and wiped all surfaces in Louis' kitchen, which left him with nothing to do. He poured the tea into cups and looked at the watch, deciding that eleven thirty was a humane time to wake Louis up.

Louis hadn't moved much, as Harry slipped into the living room. He lay on one side, a hand curled up at his cheek, his hair messy, but pushed from his face and long lashes curling against his cheeks. He looked like a child, in a way and Harry felt his heartbeat pick up speed.

How had he never noticed before that Louis was nothing but pretty? Of course, he had always known that Louis wasn't unattractive or hard on the eye. But Harry had never quite seen how pretty he was. Louis' cheekbones were perfectly defined, high and sharp. His skin was golden, a shade that reminded Harry of delicious caramel fudge, and his lashes were probably his greatest features. They were thick and deep black, going on for days.

Harry put the cups to the table and sat down on the edge of the sofa, running a hand over Louis' hair. It was soft and feathery and Harry liked it, when the fringe fell over Louis' eyes, shading the bright blue of his eyes. With gentle moves, Harry combed it over Louis' forehead and watched his brows knit in his sleep. Louis' slowly startled awake, groaning slightly, as his hand came up to push at his fringe that Harry had tucked over his eyes.

"What the fuck," Louis choked out, not yet opening his eyes.

Harry kept watching him, waiting for Louis to fully wake up. He sipped his own tea and when Louis finally blinked his eyes open, he smiled softly at him. Louis probably wouldn't want to hear it, but he was just adorable like this. Harry wanted to scoop him into a hug and hold him, until Louis would fall asleep again, curled up against Harry's chest.

"Morning," Harry greeted him.

Louis rolled to his back and stared at Harry for a moment, his eyes small. He looked up and down Harry's body and frowned slightly. "Well," he said, his voice still hoarse from sleep. "Make yourself at home."

Harry's grin widened and he held out the second cup for Louis. "I figured you wouldn't mind."

Sitting up, Louis ran a hand through his hair, before he accepted the cup and sipped with his eyes closed. "Can't really rip them off you now, can I?"

An awkward silence settled between them and Harry saw Louis tense up. And since when were they both startled into silence at an ambiguous comment?

"I wanted to make breakfast," Harry said to distract them both from the awkwardness. "But you didn't have anything to cook."

Louis shrugged, still focused on his tea. "I usually have cereal for breakfast. Help yourself, if you're hungry."

"No, 's fine." Unsure how to proceed, Harry stared into his cup, too. He had felt so warm and encouraged, but now, all of it was gone again. Louis was still so cold around him -- Harry had no idea how to handle it.

He glanced across the room and his look fell onto the pink box he had given Louis. "You haven't yet opened your gift."

Louis looked up, too and glanced at Harry, before he got up to fetch it from the small table. Lazily, he slumped back onto the couch and moved the box in his hands. "It's the same paper Niall used," he stated.

"I helped them wrap theirs, too," Harry admitted. "Niall's been using miles of wrapping paper and it still looked rather crappy."

Louis laughed gently and Harry watched his features soften, his heart doing a little flip as Louis' eyes wrinkled. His smile was precious and Harry had just figured it too late.

Peeling off the paper, Louis’ soft laugh turned into a genuine bark of laughter, even before he had completely unwrapped it.

"You're not serious, Harry," he exclaimed and turned to Harry with an amused expression. "You bought me a miniature Hetty The Hoover?"

A grin spread across Harry's face and he nodded. "It's the children's edition. You can't actually clean your flat with this one, but it's good enough to hoover the biscuit crumbs on the sofa."

"I get the impression all of you guys think I wasn't able to keep my flat clean."

"We're just making it easier for you," Harry explained and left out that Liam, Zayn and Niall had just been clueless what to get Louis. They had somehow picked up Harry's idea, when he had shown them the toy hoover he had bought.

Louis got the pink device out of the box and his expression was concentrated, as he put the batteries in. He switched it on and laughed again, as he hoovered the empty space next to him.

"I'm glad you like it," Harry said fondly.

"You know that Hetty is my secret love interest," Louis answered and switched it off again. He set the hoover to the table and its happy, drawn on face smiled at them. "Thanks."

In that moment, Harry wanted to say so much. He wanted to tell Louis that his laugh made Harry the happiest and that he loved how Louis held him, that his hair always smelled so nice and that his eyes were the bluest Harry had ever seen. He wanted to tell Louis that Harry was in love with his mind, his sarcastic humour and his gentle heart. He wanted to tell Louis that he found it endearing that he was completely lost in a kitchen, that Harry loved resting his hand over Louis' soft tummy, that he looked so warm and delicate in the mornings and that he was so, so fit when he played football.

Harry wanted to tell him all of it, right then, but he settled with the most urgent.

"I miss you, Lou."

Louis stilled and stared at his lap, before he lifted his head and looked at Harry, a small smile tracing his lips. Why did he look so broken, when he was smiling? Harry couldn't wrap his mind around it.

Without a word, Louis reached out and pulled Harry into his arms and Harry sighed into it, nuzzled close. "I miss you, too, you fool."

It calmed him, if just a little. At least Louis didn't hate him and from here, it would be easier to sort things out between them. And even if Louis wanted them to just be friends, Harry would take it.

He'd rather be just friends than spending any more time without Louis in his life.

"I'm sorry," Harry said and curled his fingers into Louis' shirt.

Louis was silent for a moment, his arm still around Harry's shoulders, the other loosely over his hip. He had his face turned into Harry's hair and his voice was muffled, when he asked, "what are you sorry for?"

"The snog," Harry repeated immediately. "I shouldn't have." He swallowed thickly and leaned his forehead against Louis' shoulder. "It's driven you away from me. I know I've been not acting like a friend way too often. I have no idea what's gotten into me then." It was a lie, of course it was. But Harry knew he was better off with a lie at this point. It really just was a small lie, too and it did save both of them from any more harm.

Again, Louis didn't answer. He suddenly tensed up and then, gently pushed Harry away. He got up and paced the room, obviously troubled and struggling for words. Afraid to say something wrong, Harry just watched him and bit his lip, until it hurt.

Louis would send him away, after all.

"Listen, Harry," Louis said finally, as he stopped pacing. "It wasn't that I didn't want the kiss. Truth is," he paused and rubbed his fingertips over the crinkles on his forehead, "I actually really wanted it."

Harry stared at him, trying to process what Louis had just said.

"I've wanted it since I first met you in that club. And I only said I wasn't interested, because Zayn was so insistent about me being a stalker." Louis still didn't look at Harry. His hair was messy, his skin still looked so soft from sleep and his eyes were a cloudy grey now.

Harry tried to say something, anything to make Louis understand what was going through his mind right now, but all he could get out was, "oh, fuck." Because, yes, oh fuck, Harry had messed this all up even worse than he had initially believed.

"I know," Louis choked out. "And you really better be sorry, because you made it so hard for me. I tried, Harry, I really tried to just ignore it, but I couldn't. Not when you acted the way you did. You never even left me a chance to say No."

It was true -- Harry never had. Whatever had happened between them, Harry had initiated all of it and Louis had never had the chance to actually speak his mind or decide against it. This had to stop. Louis thought he was wrong and Harry had to let him know that he wasn't, that Harry wanted all of it, that Harry was in love with him.

He got up and felt his knees getting weak. Harry had never had weak knees before -- nothing in his life had ever felt this important.

Quietly, he cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound at least steady. "Louis, I told you you're not my type--"

"Fuck you, Harry," Louis interrupted and he finally lifted his head to look at Harry. Cloudy grey turned into stormy blue. "If I hear you say that one more time, I'm going to throw a fit. I got it, okay? It's not like I live under the illusion that suddenly, I'm good enough for you and you changed your mind about it."

At a loss for words, Harry stared at him and he realised that he could not have started that off any way worse. He bit his lip and decided that words probably wouldn't do. It took all but two steps and he was in Louis' space, pulled him in to claim his lips in a rough kiss. He tasted bitter, like tea and sleep and still exactly like Harry remembered. His lips were dry, but soft and he instantly responded to the kiss, a surprised noise escaping him.

"No," Louis pressed out and pushed against Harry's shoulder, a little weakly, but soon enough with force. "Get off."

Harry stepped back, slightly out of breath and licked his lips, still tasting Louis on them.

"Fuck you," Louis groaned, as he turned and ran a hand over his face. "I'm not letting you do that again."

"Louis," Harry stared, but was cut off by him again.

" _I'm_ not doing that, Harry. I'm not letting you do that again; getting my hopes up, just to have you tell me afterwards that I am not who you want. I'm sorry I'm not quite what you're looking for." He turned back around and it was the first time Harry saw him like this, really enraged. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes so dark and his lips still red and glistening from the kiss. He was even beautiful like this. "I'm sorry not all of us can have the quirkiest mind, adorable dimples and fucking angelic curls to charm the shit out of the whole world." 

Harry wanted to touch him. This was so wrong, Louis was so wrong and Harry felt miserable about Louis having that impression in the first place. It was all Harry's fault for having been so damn blind for so long. 

"I don't know about the world," Harry answered and he wasn't quite sure what exactly he answered there. "But you pretty much charm the shit out of me, at least."

Louis' face fell and he even went a little pale. "Oh, fuck you," he muttered.

Harry managed a small smile and he reckoned it was safe now to approach Louis again. He gently ran his fingertips over Louis' bare arms and down to his hands. "You keep telling me that," he murmured, as he leaned in to put his forehead to Louis' and stared into his eyes. "I'd rather fuck _you_ , though."

Louis stared back at him, his breath slightly hitching and he swallowed, before he answered. "I'm going to kill you, if you change your mind again."

"Took me long enough already to make up my mind," Harry answered, tangling his fingers with Louis'. "I don't think I'll change it too soon." 

Like hypnotised, Louis kept staring into Harry's eyes and seeing him like that, made Harry feel a lot lighter. He hadn't lost Louis. But he would have to put some effort to keep him. And to make Louis believe him.

He licked his lips slowly and pulled Louis a little closer, until their middles were pressed flush together. "Can I kiss you?" Harry asked, voice almost just a whisper.

"Yes," Louis answered and he tilted his head slightly. "Yes, you can."

Harry smiled, happy and relieved, before he closed the small gap between their lips and caught Louis' between his. He slowly nipped and dragged, before he darted out his tongue and nudged Louis' mouth open. Louis didn't hold back, though, responding by licking into Harry's mouth with the same enthusiasm. The kiss turned hot, messy and wet and Harry dipped his head to bite at Louis' chin, leaving a wet trace over his jaw.

Louis' hands were now clutching Harry's, as if he was holding on to dear life and Harry squeezed back, before he freed his fingers and put them to Louis' hips. He pulled back from Louis' mouth, heavily breathing and Louis looked back at him with half-lidded eyes and pink, swollen lips. He looked so damn pretty like this.

"You have the prettiest face," Harry told him promptly, deciding not to keep any of it to himself anymore. Louis just shook his head, his eyes glued to Harry's lips and Harry made a point in dragging the words out as slowly as possible, as he added, "so, so pretty."

Louis lifted his arms to put them around Harry's neck. "You wanker used my toothbrush, didn't you?"

Harry knew he was trying to change the topic and for the moment, he would let Louis have that. "Well, I think we're going to exchange bodily fluids more often from now on. So that shouldn't be a problem."

"Better get on it right away," Louis mumbled and leaned in to kiss Harry again. He was still soft about it, pliant in Harry's arms, but at the same time, demanding.

Harry's hands hovered over Louis' hips and he broke away long enough to ask, "can I touch you? Your skin?"

Louis chuckled slightly into Harry's mouth, before he nodded and Harry slipped his hands beneath Louis' t-shirt, running them over his sides. Louis shivered and it directly transferred to Harry. He kept staring at Louis' face, while his fingertips explored skin, touched every inch they could reach and Louis' eyes clouded.

"Can I take off your shirt?"

Louis groaned and stepped back to pull it over his head, before he hauled Harry back in and dropped his shirt to the floor. "I think we can agree that I won't decline any of it."

Harry grinned and dipped his chin down to press a kiss to Louis' bare shoulder. His hands came to lie over Louis' waist and he was a little awestruck at how tiny Louis was. He needed a moment to remember the conversation. "This time around you can tell me to stop at any time."

Framing Harry's face, Louis lifted his head up again and smiled. And it was a genuine smile, sweet and dripping with affection. Harry wanted to drown in it. "I think the man, who would kick you out of bed, has yet to be born."

"As long as you won't kick me out of bed," Harry said and nibbled Louis' bottom lip.

"I definitely won't." Louis deepened the kiss and tugged at Harry's t-shirt to move them in the direction of the sofa. Harry grinned against his lips and let the kiss spin out, before he steadied his grip on Louis' waist and lifted him off the floor.

Louis squeaked quietly, a protesting noise, his hands falling to Harry's shoulders. 

"Let me take you to bed, Lou." Harry stared up at Louis, his face now hovering above Harry's and it was a rather nice change of angle. He liked the fond look on Louis' face.

"Didn't we just establish that you don't have to ask for every move you make?"

"Louis," Harry repeated and he kept his tone serious. He wanted to do this right. "Let me take you to bed."

Louis slightly lifted his hands and played with the tips of Harry's hair. Against Harry's expectations, he kept a serious face, too and didn't make fun of Harry. "Yeah, okay. Take me to bed, Harry."

Harry smiled and kept Louis in his arms, carrying him out of the living room. He hadn't lifted Louis far up off the ground and yet, doing this felt really nice. Louis had just about the right size for Harry to lift him off his feet.

"Your bedroom is a mess," Harry commented, as he sat Louis down on the bed and leaned over him, a knee between his thighs.

Louis gripped his neck and pulled his face in for a kiss. "You talk too much," he complained and dragged Harry down onto his chest.

It was pure bliss. Harry finally could do all the things he had fantasised about; run his lips over the underside of Louis' chin, draw circles with his fingers over Louis' chest, rub a thumb over his nipple, coaxing a soft moan out of Louis.

It clogged Harry's mind, made him lose focus on anything but Louis.

"Haz," Louis sighed, with his eyes closed and his hands buried in Harry's hair.

Harry's stomach made a little flip and he moved his lips to Louis' neck, kissing the skin over his pulsing vein. "That does funny things to me," he murmured.

Without an answer, Louis ran a hand down to the small of Harry's back and slipped it under the t-shirt, pressing Harry's crotch down to his own. He probably had no idea what Harry was talking about and apparently, he didn't really care, either.

Harry could tell him all of it later, everything Louis should really know. But right now, he wanted to savour having Louis unfocused, a right mess of pure lust beneath Harry. He gently scraped his teeth over the soft skin just above Louis' collarbone and blew over it, before he lifted his head to look at Louis. "Can I mark you?"

Louis' eyes fluttered open, his dark lashes a stark contrast to the sky blue of his eyes. His lips were slightly opened and he nodded, licking them, as he held Harry's eyes with his.

Rubbing his thumb over the pulse point under Louis’ ear, Harry shifted, aligning their crotches, before he sucked on the skin of Louis' neck. Louis let go of a soft moan, his hips arching up, as Harry dragged his teeth down and sucked hard again. His hands stroked down to Louis’ hips and he gently gripped them, pulled them closer to his own, starting to slowly move in small circles. Louis hooked a leg over Harry’s trying to get closer by pushing up, falling into rhythm, moans falling from his lips. Harry pressed his flat tongue over the darkening spot and breathed hotly against it, while he got lost in grinding down on Louis, enjoying the friction he got from that and Louis’ body responding. He contemplated making both of them just come like this, but that wouldn’t do Louis any justice. He pulled back after a while, watched the skin turn red and purple and Harry softly blew over it, before he placed one last peck to the bruise. 

He found Louis watching him and smiled. By now, he could feel the hard outline of Louis' cock against his thigh and Harry shifted slightly, to give him just the tiniest bit more friction, watching Louis' eyes cloud with want and lust.

"What do you want me to do, babe?" Harry asked and ran his fingers through Louis' hair. "What do you like?"

"You," Louis answered and Harry was more than satisfied seeing Louis so out of character, his mind obviously too dazed to be coherent.

Smiling, Harry leaned in and kissed Louis again, just for good measurement. He hovered over Louis' lips afterwards, hands holding his waist, thumbs gently rubbing over skin. "I guess I like you, too," he answered and smiled, as Louis just nodded.

It was ridiculous and Harry felt a quick, excited throb in his cock, as he imagined how much farther he could drive Louis in this state. They hadn't even properly started yet and Louis was already out of his mind.

Harry sat up and shifted on Louis' lap, until he straddled him and pulled off his own t-shirt, throwing it to the floor without a second thought. Louis stared up at him and his hands instantly moved to touch Harry's abs and run over his chest, trace the lines of the tattoos.

"Might as well," he read out and gave Harry a quizzical look. Harry just shrugged, not ready right now to explain any of the stories behind his tattoos. Louis apparently understood, cupped Harry's nape and pulled him down again. Harry was just too happy to oblige him and sink into the kiss.

It dragged out, both of them losing their breaths in it and Harry met the subtle thrusts of his hips, when Louis unconsciously grinded up against him. With a hand low on Louis' hips, Harry moved his mouth along Louis' chest, leaving a wet trail. His finger hooked beneath the waistline of Louis' pyjama bottoms and he looked up to Louis' face.

"Can I?"

Louis swallowed thickly and dragged his hand from Harry's hair, untangled his fingers from the curls to caress his cheek. His thumb brushed over Harry's bottom lip and he tapped it gently, for Harry to open his mouth. Harry yielded and took the digit into his mouth, gently running his tongue over it, while Louis watched him, his fingers firm over Harry's jaw and his thumb moving obscenely between Harry's lips.

"I want your mouth," Louis answered, as if he remembered Harry's earlier question only now. "I want you to suck me off."

"Yeah, Lou," Harry murmured around his thumb, gently nipping it between his teeth. "Anything you want."

Louis slipped his thumb out of Harry's mouth with a wet sound and Harry pressed another kiss just below Louis' belly button, before he tugged his bottoms down to his knees, freeing Louis’ cock. It was hard and thick, lying against Louis’ stomach, so Harry didn't waste any more time, before he ducked his head and ran his tongue along the underside.

Louis arched off the bed, his fingers pulling Harry's hair and precome gathered at the tip of his cock. Harry kept looking up at him, as he slid his lips over the hard shaft and swallowed him down. Eyes wide, lips obscenely wet and bitten, Louis stared back at him, his breath becoming ragged, as Harry started to bob his head up and down, taking all of Louis' cock into his mouth.

Louis murmured words, Harry’s name, low moans under his breath, but his eyes never left Harry’s and he found himself extremely turned on by that fact. Louis moved a hand out of Harry’s hair and ran it over the hollow in his cheek, sucking in his bottom lip, as he watched his own cock disappearing over and over again between Harry’s lips, before his gaze settled on Harry’s again.

Harry felt tears stinging behind his eyes, as Louis’ cock repeatedly hit the back of his throat and had to pull back for a second, to catch his breath and to suppress the urge to gag. Louis comfortingly scraped his scalp, soothingly combed his hair with shaky fingers.

They kept looking at each other, as Harry sunk his head down again and took in the head, hotly, roughly pressing his tongue against a spot just beneath it. He had to press Louis' hips to the mattress to keep him from pushing up into Harry's mouth.

"Harry," Louis mumbled, over and over again, his voice already ruined and Harry felt it go straight to his own erection.

Tilting his head, he changed the angle and he hummed gently, moaned encouragingly, as Louis choked on thin air and apparently, that did the deal for him, coming wet and hard into Harry's mouth, eyes fiercely staring into Harry’s. His hips jerked ever so slightly, but apparently, Louis held himself back from pushing up. He pulled Harry's hair instead, fingers clenching the curls.

Harry withdrew, just a little, so he wouldn't choke on it and swallowed whatever he could catch. A bit of it dribbled from the corner of his mouth, dripping to Louis' thigh. Taking his time, Harry sucked Louis off completely through his orgasm and afterwards, until Louis made a small protesting noise and Harry let his cock slip out of his mouth. He breathed heavily and bedded his head to Louis' thigh. Louis' hand in his hair relaxed, unclenched from around the curls and he started stroking again, playing with the strands.

"Harry," he repeated and his voice still sounded rough and ruined. Harry wanted to hear it again and again. "Harry, come here."

Slowly, Harry heaved up his own weight and dropped down next to Louis, instinctively pulling him in. Louis pressed a kiss to his lips, making a small noise, probably at the taste of himself on Harry's tongue. His hand reached down and settled low on Harry's stomach.

"Let me help you out there," Louis murmured and Harry's breathing picked up; he could feel his cheeks flush even more. He wanted Louis to touch him, wanted to come in Louis' arms. But this was not about him. This had been about Louis, and Louis alone.

"You don't have to," he said quietly.

"I want to touch you, love." Louis tugged at the fabric of the jogging bottoms, staring into Harry's eyes and Harry felt his heart skip another beat. "You've been so good."

Harry knew he hadn't been and yet, he felt a rush of adrenaline in his veins, warm satisfaction settling in his stomach at those words. Louis deserved more than good -- he deserved so much more after Harry had fucked it all up from the very beginning.

Louis pushed Harry's pants down and for a moment he was still above Harry, staring down at him, before he leaned in and traced his lips and tongue over one of the birds beneath Harry's collarbones.

"I've wanted to do that for ages," Louis admitted, breath warm against Harry's skin. Harry closed his eyes and hummed, pushing his hips up slightly and kicking off the jogging bottoms to remind Louis of his actual task at hand.

He couldn’t hold back the grin forming on his lips at that thought. _Task at hand_. That was what it literally was. Louis’ hand would be enough, just a few strokes. He really just needed a little friction, just a bit to push him over the edge.

Louis' breath was warm over Harry's jaw and his hand gently kneaded Harry's hip, moving to his thigh. Harry bit his lip, trying to adjust to Louis' rate, let him set the pace. It was just so impossibly hard--- impossibly hard, indeed, Harry thought and let go of a low moan, the grin spreading wider, as he opened his eyes.

"You're so easy to read," Louis grinned and moved his head up to catch Harry's earlobe between his teeth. "There's something dirty on your mind again," he whispered and finally, finally, his hand wrapped around Harry's cock.

"You're on my mind," Harry retorted, breath laboured and voice thin. He would never miss a comeback at Louis, though. Louis' hand was dry and it almost hurt, but Harry didn't want him to stop, either. With his thumb, Louis swiped some of the precome down Harry's cock and his strokes became smoother, easier.

"'m close, Lou," he pressed out, hips falling into rhythm with Louis' hand and Louis twisted his wrist, dragged at just the right moment. Harry froze and felt the orgasm roll over his body. Louis stroked him through it and caught Harry's lips, swallowing every single noise. He kept kissing Harry afterwards, didn't leave him a second to catch his breath and Harry thought he might suffocate there and then.

Eventually, Louis pulled back and Harry sucked in some air, breathing heavily, eyes still fixed on Louis. He looked soft and perfectly satisfied with himself, his lips impossibly red. As he brought his hand up, Harry followed the movement with his eyes and watched Louis lick his fingers, his eyes staring right back at Harry's.

Harry leaned in and caught one of Louis' fingers between his lips, sucking gently. Louis grinned and tangled their legs together, while Harry licked his hand clean.

"Harry Styles," he said lowly and his eyes shone with fondness. "You're a bit of a slut, I must say."

Harry chuckled, as his heartbeat settled back to normal. "Earlier, you called me angelic."

"I am pretty sure I mentioned quirky before that," Louis answered and he spun one of Harry's curls around his finger, gently toying with it.

Harry just looked right back at him, rested his arm over Louis' waist. "You're perfect, Lou."

"A sentimental slut," Louis commented.

"I'm serious, you know." Harry frowned and rubbed his thumb over the dimples at the small of Louis' back. "I was a right prick for not realising it any sooner."

"You don't expect any cliché lines now, do you?"

Harry shifted closer and his frown didn't falter. He hadn't expected Louis to take him serious. This was not the type of conversation Louis would ever admit to having. But Harry would coax it out of him.

"I don't expect you to reassure me I'm not at fault," he answered quietly, "if that's what you mean."

Louis averted his eyes and Harry knew he had hit a nerve. But other than that, Louis did not distance himself from him; his body was still snuggled up to him, his hand resting against Harry's chest, his face close.

"Louis," Harry said and waited for him to raise his face again. It took a moment, but eventually, Louis looked up at him. His eyes were back to sea blue and Harry found a few green sprinkles, enriched by the sunlight. "I meant that; earlier, when I said you charmed me. I'm completely charmed by every bit of you."

Louis stared right back at him, look disbelieving and awestruck. Harry decided that he liked that look on Louis. He had a feeling he wouldn't see it too often. "That's so soppy," he murmured, and it didn't sound quite as mocking as Louis had probably intended it to come across.

"Yeah, I'm a sap," Harry answered, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "And I should have told you a long time ago."

A spark lit up in Louis' eyes and a smirk spread over his features. "No worries, babe. I figured you're a sap right after we met."

Leaning in, Harry pecked the tip of Louis' nose, his hand absently stroking up and down Louis' back. "You're perfect," he repeated, his lips seeking out Louis'.

Louis kissed back, before he leaned his forehead against Harry's shoulder. "I'm not mad or angry, Harry. I don't resent you, if that's what worries you."

And how did Louis not know exactly how perfect he was? Harry tightened his grip around him, squeezed gently and pressed his lips to Louis' soft hair, before he lifted his arm to bring it between them and put his hand over Louis'. Louis instantly moved his own, turned his palm against Harry's and Harry slid his fingers between the gaps of Louis'. He had never quite realised it before, but their hands fitted together perfectly.

"I think," he said lowly, "it's pretty safe to say that I'm in love with you." 

It surprised him to feel Louis' heartbeat race up against the back of Harry's hand. He didn't tense or move in any way and if it hadn’t been for his heart beating so fast and Harry being so close to Louis to feel it, he would have been fooled. Like this, he knew that Louis was at least flattered by Harry's confession.

Louis inhaled deeply and then shifted, his hand letting go and coming up to cup Harry's cheek. Harry calmly stared back at him, tried to find a reaction, an answer, anything in Louis' expression.

"I'll forever give you shit for realising that so fucking late," Louis said, but his tone was gentle, his eyes fond.

Harry still frowned, pursed his lips. "You said you didn't resent me."

"That doesn't mean I'd voluntarily miss out on paying you back." Louis pinched his cheek and grinned wittily. Then, his expression fell a little, his look more serious. "For all the times I felt so hopelessly in love with you, but couldn't have you," he added quietly.

Harry felt his breath become shallow and he shuddered, suddenly feeling cold. The warm haze from the sex had long vanished, leaving their bodies to cool down on the wrinkled sheets. "Lou," he said, voice raspy, before he dove into another kiss, tried to steal some heat from Louis.

"Alright, alright," Louis soothed and rubbed his thumb over Harry's cheekbone. "I was just teasing you," he explained between short kisses. "Just teasing. You'll make it a lot less fun for me, if you're going to look at me like this each time."

Harry knew Louis was teasing him, of course he knew. It didn't change anything about how he felt, though. He was frustrated with himself and the thought of hurting Louis, of having hurt him for so long, was really eating away at him.

"You're here now, babe," Louis murmured against his lips. "Everything's good. I got you."

Harry opened his eyes and shivered again, his hand curling around Louis' waist. "Yeah," he breathed out. "I got you, too."

Louis smiled reassuringly. "I'm all yours."

It was easy to take the comfort Louis offered and let him soothe Harry's worries and doubts away. It was a strength, Harry realised, one of Louis biggest strengths. He was fucking amazing and Harry had known it from the very beginning, but he couldn't grasp how he hadn't loved it from the very beginning, too.

Carefully, he sat up and Louis rolled to his back, looked at Harry with curious eyes. Warm sunlight flooded the room and let Louis' skin shine like bronze.

Harry had no idea how he deserved him and why Louis even still wanted him, but he wouldn't question his luck. Instead, he would make sure to cherish it properly.

"Hey, are you cold?" Louis asked and ran a hand over Harry's thigh. He realised he still trembled and nodded slightly. Louis sat up, too and pressed a quick peck to Harry's lips and rolled out of bed then, grabbing his pants off the floor. Pulling them over, he left the room.

Harry watched him and remained sitting on the bed. He grabbed the pillows from the floor and arranged them neatly in front of the headboard. Louis came back a moment later, the duvet gathered up in his arms and he spread it over Harry, before he climbed back into bed. He pressed Harry's back to the mattress and rolled on top of him, bringing their mouths together.

"Gonna warm you up, love," he said and framed Harry's face.

Harry grinned and wound his arms around Louis' middle. He was already feeling warmer from the way Louis looked at him. "I was hoping you'd get the hint."

Laughing, Louis buried his face against Harry's neck and pressed a kiss to the skin there. Harry squeezed him lightly and as Louis' laughter died and he started to lick and bite and suck, warmth turned into heat. It turned into a burn shortly after and Harry thought his whole body was burned -- every inch that Louis had touched or kissed. He felt like burning up beneath Louis' hands; burning up and blazing high.

Louis was radiating with warmth, Harry thought, later -- much, much later -- when Louis gathered him up in his arms and his hair stuck to his forehead and he felt dirty and sweaty, but too sated to even think of moving.

And Louis shared it. All of his warmth -- his contagious smile, his bright blue eyes, his gentle touches, his loving heart -- he shared all of it. In a way, it crossed Harry's mind, as he drifted off to sleep, that made Louis his.

He probably hadn't been Harry's type at first glance, but it didn't really matter; perhaps, it wasn't even true. Because, with every single bit Louis shared of himself with Harry, he realised that even if Louis wasn't his type, he really was, all the same.

Louis was Harry's type to love. He definitely was.

+++

The doorbell rang annoyingly loud.

Louis blinked his eyes open, just to squeeze them shut again against the blinding spring sun. Harry lay half on top of him, head resting between Louis' shoulder blades, hand placed over his bum. Apparently, Harry was handsy in his sleep, too. Not that Louis minded.

The doorbell rang again, repeatedly and Louis groaned. Harry startled now, too and sighed slightly, before he pressed his lips against Louis' nape.

"Someone's demanding your attention," Harry said, voice sleep-soft and raspy.

"Yeah, I can feel that." Louis shifted closer to Harry. "You're insatiable."

Harry squeezed Louis' hip in response, trailing soft kisses over his shoulder. "What kind of people ring other people's doorbells at half nine on a Sunday morning?" Harry wanted to know, moving his hand over Louis' hip, pulling him a little closer.

Turning, Louis propped himself up on his elbows, looking down on Harry next to him. "We could ignore it and take a shower instead."

"I'm in desperate need of a shower," Harry agreed. "And food. Proper food," he added, before Louis could remind him of the cereal they had eaten yesterday night.

The doorbell rang again and Louis threw his head back with an annoyed sigh. "Hold that thought," he said and rolled out of bed. Harry reached out to give his bum a small slap and Louis winked at him over his shoulder. He pulled a t-shirt over his bare chest, adjusted the joggers over his hips. "I'll just quickly kill whoever that is."

On bare feet, he hurried down the corridor to the door and wasn't too surprised to find Liam and Zayn in front of it. They had even brought Woodstock who excitedly greeted Louis by tugging at his leash.

"At least you," Louis greeted them and pointed at Zayn, "shouldn't have a reason to be up at half nine on a Sunday."

Zayn gave a helpless shrug, as he came inside, Liam on his heels. "Didn't have much of a choice."

"Harry didn't come home all day yesterday," Liam added and gave Louis an expectant look.

"Ever heard of mobile phones?" Louis simply asked.

"That's what I wanted to ask you, as you haven't picked up yours at all."

Louis frowned, remembered it had just lain right there on his night stand. It had probably run out of battery again, without him noticing.

Zayn peered down the corridor to Louis' bedroom door. "Is he here?"

"You guys are the worst. I hope you'll never have kids." Louis turned and strolled into the kitchen, leaving it to them to follow him.

"We're just worried," Liam said. "In case you fucked up again, he probably ran off to do something stupid."

Louis set on the kettle and opened a cupboard to get out tea cups. Then, he turned, leaning against the sink and crossing his arms. "I guess we all know that if that was the case -- and I would just like to add that I have no idea why you think I fucked anything up in the first place -- he would show up on your doorstep first of all things."

"So, you guys talked?" Zayn almost beamed with the thought and Louis snorted at the view.

"And you guys are always making fun of him for being into rom com." Louis' held his tone dry. "Apparently, you two are suckers for real life rom com."

Liam smiled and suddenly, he was in Louis' space, pulling him into a hug. "I'm glad if you could sort it out. You both just looked so pitiful," he said, rubbing a hand over Louis' back.

The doorbell rang again and Louis rolled his eyes.

"I'll get that," Zayn offered and left the kitchen, Woodstock following him with an excited wiggle of his short tail.

Liam turned back to Louis, as he was gone. "It really ate away at him, Louis," he said quietly, "I hope you know how much he really loves you."

Louis stared at him for a moment and he thought about making fun of it. It was his natural reaction, but Liam looked so earnest and concerned and Louis probably really had no idea how bad Harry had taken all of it.

"I guess I do," he answered and squeezed Liam's arm lightly. "I don't resent him. We just needed a bit time to figure out how to make this work. But we're good now. I'm not letting him go anytime soon."

Liam looked relieved and pulled Louis into another hug, before he pulled back and wrinkled his nose, pulling a face. "You really need a shower, mate."

Louis laughed, pinching his stomach. "I just wanted to do that, when you invited yourself in."

Zayn came back in, Niall behind him, the dog in his arms.

Louis raised a brow. "Did you guys arrange to meet here?"

Niall shook his head. "No, I tried to call several times and you didn't pick up, so I thought I'd better check on you. In case things with Harry didn't turn out so well," he added and smirked. "But judging from how fucked out you look, I reckon there's no need to worry about that."

Liam chocked on his own spit, apparently and Zayn barked out a laugh. Louis just smirked, straightening out his wrinkled shirt.

"You guys are damn loud," Harry said from the door and rubbed a finger over one eye. He yawned and hadn't bothered to put on any more clothes than his boxer briefs. Louis' eyes instantly darted to his stomach, but it didn't show any traces of their night activities. Harry had somehow managed to clean that bit off, before coming to the kitchen, because Louis could remember it being sticky and dirty, when they had fallen asleep. Several bruises, dark purple and scattered across his body, revealed that Louis had gone down on his body, though.

It was a glorious sight and sent a rush of satisfaction through Louis' veins.

Harry came into the kitchen and went straight for Louis, crowding his space and snuggling up to him, resting his head on Louis' shoulder. Louis couldn't bite back the smile and he wound an arm around Harry's middle, pulling him in. He caught Zayn's eye and felt a slight blush creep up his neck, as he placed a quick kiss to Harry's hair.

"Sorry to disturb your beauty sleep," Niall said dryly, but there was a certain degree of fondness beneath that Louis couldn't miss.

"You're forgiven if you tell me you brought food," Harry answered. "I'm starving."

"We've brought food," Zayn said and Harry stirred in Louis' arms. He was convinced Harry just fully woke up in that very moment and he stared at Zayn with round eyes, before he scanned the kitchen.

"Where?" he asked. "I can't see it."

"You just asked to be told we brought food," Zayn pointed out and an evil smirk spread over his face.

Harry fetched away from Louis to lunge onto Zayn, tackle him, and Louis watched him snake his impossibly long limbs around Zayn, trying to bring him down. Zayn pushed back, though, laughing and kicking, until he had Harry let go.

"That's disgusting," Zayn choked out between laughter. "You reek of sex, get off me!"

Harry stepped back and frowned, as he lifted his arm to sniffle the skin beneath his elbow. He turned back to Louis and shrugged. "I guess I really do."

Louis lifted a brow. "That surprises you?"

Grinning, Harry stepped closer and Louis felt his hand come to rest over Harry's hip automatically. It was nice, reaching out and touching Harry without thinking about it, without feeling remorse or restrictions. He didn't have to hold back or ponder over how to look at Harry and for how long and if he would see any of Louis' feelings in his eyes. Harry was supposed to see them now and Louis wanted to him to see every bit of it.

Harry put his hand over Louis' on his hip and moved his fingers, until he could slide them between Louis', lacing them together. He kept looking at Louis with that small grin, his thoughts obviously occupied with the memories of last day.

"Okay, lovebirds," Liam said and broke the silence, made Louis snap out of his bubble, where he had somehow managed to zoom out on anyone in the room but Harry. "How about you take care of that and shower it off and we'll take care of breakfast?"

Louis grinned, squeezing Harry's hand. "Sounds like a deal."

"Don't even think of that," Niall threw in. "You'll go separately."

Harry tore his look from Louis' face and frowned deeply. "Excuse me? Why would we?"

And how had Louis even found him? The way he sounded honestly offended about Niall even just implying separating them for the ten minutes it would take to shower, was truly adorable.

Niall rolled his eyes and turned to Liam. "I volunteer to go to Tesco and grab what we need."

"I reckon we'll go together," Zayn added and attached the leash back to Woodstock’s collar.

"You guys have twenty minutes," Liam informed them, as they left the kitchen. He gripped Louis' key from the small shoe cabinet and threw a wink over his shoulder.

Louis raised a brow, as they quickly left the flat and then, turned to Harry, who stood behind him and still sported that ridiculous feisty grin. It was still a bit surreal to think that Harry was here, in Louis' flat, looking sleepy and messed up, smelling of sex, in only his damn underwear and about to take a shower with Louis.

Approaching him, Louis held out his hands and let Harry haul him in. His skin was a little sticky beneath Louis' cheek, but still warm and soft.

"I got your Mum's approval," Louis mumbled into the crook of Harry's neck.

Harry pulled back with a surprised and confused look, before recognition settled on his features. "When will you stop making Liam the mum?"

"As soon as he stops acting like one," Louis answered, smirking.

Shaking his head, Harry pulled Louis along to the bathroom. "So, what did he say?"

"That you vowed to be my slave, should I ever forgive you."

Harry turned and raised a brow, dropping Louis' hand to tug at his shirt and pull it over Louis' head. "Well, I was afraid he could have mentioned the shampoo."

Louis frowned, as Harry hooked his fingers beneath the waistline of his pyjama bottoms. "What's that about?"

Harry grinned and placed a quick kiss to Louis' cheek, before he pulled the pants down Louis' hips. "Never telling you _that_. You'd give me shit for the rest of my life."

"So," Louis inquired, stepping into the shower cabin behind Harry. He would find out. Not from Liam, probably, but he could manage to squeeze the information from Zayn. And whatever it was, he would nag Harry with it endlessly. "You don't object to being my slave?"

"I reckon there's nothing I can do, really, if you decide to make me your slave." He reached behind himself to turn on the water and leaned over Louis, shielding him from the initial cold spray. It soaked the tips of his hair, making them stick to the skin of his neck and he shivered for just the fraction of a second.

Damn, Harry really was boyfriend material. Louis dived forward and pulled Harry in for a kiss. Morning breath and all, he didn't really mind; he needed Harry's lips on his.

Harry chuckled, as the water warmed up on their skin and drew Louis closer. Water was dripping from his curls to Louis' face, drops caught in his eyelashes, droplets on his upper lip, when he pulled back and smiled.

"I love you, Lou," he said quietly and Louis couldn't imagine he would ever stop feeling flattered by that. He had heard it so often yesterday and tonight, so many times, and it was still turning his world upside down.

"I love you, too," Louis answered, just as quietly. The way Harry's face lit up, told him that he probably felt about it the way Louis did. He couldn't really believe he had an effect like that on anyone, let alone Harry Styles. It was a puzzle to him and he really had no clue how he had solved it.

But, the puzzle had been solved --- and Harry had been every single missing piece.

Louis had no idea how he deserved him and why Harry even wanted him in the first place, but he wouldn't question his luck. Instead, he would make sure to cherish it properly.

He sealed their lips again and kissed the smile off of Harry's lips, until the hot water didn't feel all that hot anymore on their heated skin. Harry was pliant and yielding and let Louis have his mind. And in Louis' mind, nothing could keep him from his initial plan to have lazy shower sex in the morning. Not the noise coming from the front door, when Niall, Liam and Zayn came back, not the water cooling down, not Harry pressed flush to the tiles, letting out tired moans, whispering, "I can't."

Louis proved Harry he could; very well, so.

Later, when he rubbed a towel over Harry's skin and flung it over his head to dry his curls, Harry gave him a pleading look, slumping against Louis.

"I really need food," he whined. "I'm even too exhausted to stand."

Louis nodded and handed him the towel to cover himself, before they left the bathroom, releasing a damp cloud of steam, as Louis opened the door.

Zayn peeked at them from the living room, raising a brow. "Those were some long twenty minutes."

Louis grinned and hurried to his bedroom, Harry on his heels. He handed him a fresh pair of joggers and a shirt and Harry gave him an indignant look.

"You're not going to sit naked in my kitchen," Louis argued. The image really was tempting, but that was probably something they’d try, when they would be alone.

"Not naked," Harry said, eying the clothes. "In underwear."

Louis threw the clothes at him and Harry sighed, but obeyed and pulled them over, while Louis got into his own.

In the kitchen, Liam and Niall had red beans simmering and bacon and eggs sizzling in a pan. Harry sneaked a slice of toast from the table and greedily shoved it into his mouth.

"Hey!" Niall noticed and pointed a finger at him. "Put that back! I wasn't allowed to touch any of it, while you took hours and hours in the bathroom!"

Harry grinned and chewed on the white bread. "You didn't have sex for a whole day, while starving, either."

Niall growled, but didn't argue any further. Instead, he shovelled bacon, beans and scrambled eggs onto the plates and told them to at least take the tea. They carried all of it to the living room and settled on the sofa, the chair, the floor.

It was a lazy day. They spent it playing FIFA and watching stupid telly shows and Louis thought that it was awfully domestic. A Sunday spent inside, on the sofa, with his four best friends. Zayn fell asleep around noon and Niall drew on his face with a permanent marker. Zayn would rip his head off, when he’d wake up later, Louis had no doubt about it. It was something to look forward to. Liam lay with his head on Zayn's chest and watched the programme, his hand resting on Woodstock's back.

And Harry; Harry stuck to Louis' side all day, as if he hadn't stuck to him all day yesterday; playing with Louis' fingers when he got bored of whatever was on telly, whispering into Louis' ear when he lost a match against Zayn.

He would probably go home tonight, Louis thought, as Harry snuggled up against him, an arm around Louis' waist and his lips pressed against Louis' neck. He would go home to change and to be in time for classes tomorrow.

But, Louis would get to meet up with him at uni to spend lunch time together, or drop by at the bakery and take him home. Louis didn’t have a key to Harry’s flat anymore, but he would probably still end up there tomorrow night.

Harry got heavier on Louis' chest, his breathing even and Louis smiled to himself, lips pressing gently to Harry's temple.

He probably wouldn't go home, after all. Not that Louis minded. Not at all.

If Harry wanted, he was more than welcome to stay forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! 
> 
> I planned it out as a Oneshot, but nonestly, with everything I added while writing, this could have easily been a Multichap. Anyway, I really hoped you liked it. Be gentle, it's my first contribution to this fandom. I haven't written any 1D fics before this one. But I enjoyed it lots. I hope you could, too. 
> 
> Once again, thanks a lot to [zarah5](http://archiveofourown.org/users/zarah5/pseuds/zarah5) for helping out as a beta. I am sorry for bothering you with this so much. Thanks for all the time you spent on this! <3  
> Also, to a special girl who helped out last minute. You know you are special, sweetheart! <3
> 
> Thanks for taking your time, feedback of any kind is always welcome. Either here or on my [Tumblr](http://sadamenoito.tumblr.com/) :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading. Feedback of any kind is always welcome! ♥


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